Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
by Forfie
Summary: 6th year. Harry realizes the roll he must play in the up coming war. This year brings a new DADA professor, vigalante justice and an isolating dorm mate. Who is the Manchurian General and the HalfBlood Prince? Is one of them Harry?
1. Summer Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other characters created by the great J.K. Rowling. The title is neither mine. Other authors are using the same title. Please take no offence in it, I am just writing what I would like to see happen in the upcoming book. No money is being made.

Thanks go to Nita, who beta'd this chapter for me.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince 

By forfie

Chapter 1.) Summer Time

It had only been one day since Harry Potter had gotten off the train from his school to spend the summer with the remainder of his blood relations in their house. The Dursley's, after all, did own 4 Privet Drive and had called it home for almost two decades. Unfortunately, this was not a home for Harry; he might live there during the summer, but for a place to really be a home you must feel welcomed. Harry most certainly did not feel welcomed.

There were many reasons why Harry felt unwelcome in the Dursley's house. One was the fact that his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, forced his relations to take him in. Another reason he didn't feel welcome was because of the neglect he was subjected to since the time he was a one year old up to the time he was eleven. The last reason he didn't feel welcome was because several of his friends and mentors had threatened and forced the Dursleys to keep him.

The reason for the threat was simple; Harry Potter, the five foot five inch tall fifteen year old with constantly messy raven black hear, shockingly emerald green eyes, and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, was a wizard. He had been learning magic for the past five years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under the headmastership of one Albus Dumbledore. Throughout those five years, Harry and his friends, Ron and Hermione, had fun and exciting adventures and watched as the wizarding world shifted from a state of peace to that of war. The first part of this war was put into a long hiatus by Harry one dreadful Halloween night in 1981, when he lost both his parents and the chance at anything that could have resembled a normal life to the darkest wizard ever known, Lord Voldemort, and his loyal henchmen, the Death Eaters.

Harry got up from his sitting position on his bed and made his way over to his trunk, trying to forget all of his past. At this point, he wished he were more like Dean Thomas, one of his dorm mates that had non-magical parents; Dean just didn't have to think about this kind of thing at all. Harry sometimes wished to just be normal and not have fame because of a scar on his head that marked him for death.

_Marked_, thought Harry, _just like the Prophecy says_. _No! You have already thought and dwelled on the Prophecy enough, you know what it means and you know what you have to do. So go do it!_ _What would Sirius think? Sirius..._ At that point Harry's memories slipped back to his last week at Hogwarts. He was mourning the death of his Godfather, Sirius Black, and also analyzing his lot in life that fates had dealt him. This meant staying up later, and thinking about the Prophecy over and over. Harry's final thought came right after his conversation with Luna Lovegood, a fellow Hogwarts student, who was also a member of the Defense Association started by Hermione and Ron but lead by Harry. Luna had also accompanied him to the Ministry of Magic to try and save Sirius Black. In essence, he had been led to the epiphany that everything has a flow, like Luna always finding her belongings. Harry realized that the Prophecy meant no one could kill him, save the dark lord. Now he had a mission.

To do all of this, Harry saw the need for some improvements, mainly in his physical need for endurance and his need for a plethora of magical knowledge. He might as well take care of the Dursley's forced hospitality.

Harry walked down the stairs on this Saturday afternoon to find his Uncle Vernon and his cousin Dudley lounging in the living room watching the telly, which was a usual occurrence. However, Harry actually noticed something different about his cousin that he had never noticed before. He had lost a lot of fat and now actually looked fit enough to hold the title of Interschool Heavyweight Boxing, whatever he bragged about.

"Ahem," Harry lamely tried to get the attention of his uncle and cousin. Harry was actually surprised that it worked and felt his mind go blank, "…er…I was just... just wondering if it was possible to …um …it's actually a stupid idea, I'll just go back upstairs."

"Tell us boy," said his uncle rather indifferently, "because if it…er…helps with your situation, then we shall abide your request."

Harry understood now why his uncle was being so nonplused about the situation. Vernon would only put up with it to show the Order of the Phoenix that _the boy_ was being treated all right.

"Uncle Vernon, how much of my…situation…do you know about?"

Harry's uncle shifted uncomfortably on the couch before saying, "Enough to know that the explosion at the Yank's Khubar Towers housing facility in Saudi Arabia this past week was probably done by this…Lord Voldywarts or whatever ridiculous name your lot calls him."

_What! There have already been attacks and I wasn't told? Why am I always treated like a mushroom?_ "I actually had no knowledge of that. But it's good that you have a basic understanding of what my…kind…are up against. That's why I was wondering if you would allow me to go to the gym and train."

"No," was Uncle Vernon's only reply

"Huh?" _Didn't Vernon fear the Order? And what they would do to him?_

"Boy, I said no because that old codg…er…headmaster of yours explained to me and Petunia the need to keep you within a kilometer of the house, and the gym is more then two kilometers from the house," replied Uncle Vernon, "not to mention, I would hate to upset your…friends…so how about you work out with Dudders? You can run circuits around the neighborhood." Dudley shifted uncomfortably at his fathers' proclamation.

Harry could read it off Dudley's face; even if they had to be civil, the Dursley's didn't have to like it. "It sounds fine to me…how about you Dudley?" Harry didn't care any more how he got in shape. He knew that being scrawny wasn't intimidating.

Dudley looked at Harry and gave him a smirk that showcased Dudley's old bullying self, "Sure, except I'm going to need you for some boxing practice. I need something that can actually try to avoid me".

"I'm sorry, but Dudder's I have to…" Uncle Vernon broke off when Harry stuck out his hand.

"You've got a deal." At least this way Harry could also get the sense of guilt over his Godfather's death beaten out of him.

Thus the agreement between the two cousins held, one for the purpose of trying to fight in the upcoming war, another to have an excuse to remain the same and not have to act with bravado. The training for Harry was tough at first, but he started to get the hang of it by the third day. Each morning, he and Dudley would start a seven kilometer jog, which would soon turn into a run for competition's sake, and then they would both go to the basement to weight train, work on foot work and once in a while spar. Each day, Harry's food intake was equal to that of Dudley's; it was a diet that was designed to increase energy and muscle. Every night found Harry reading and reviewing all the books he had in his possession. This regime was also supplemented with his three -day notices to the Order in which he requested any books he might need. Besides the need to prepare for the upcoming war, Harry also wanted to keep his mind busy.

The Order of the Phoenix was much obliged to meet Harry's request, and he received five extremely useful books. He obtained _Tribal African Incantations, Wards and Protections_ by Kissiwana Djembe, which came from Kingsley Shakelbolt; _The Art of Dueling_ by Sun Gao, which came from Moony; _Who, What, When, Where & How: The Art of Illusion_ by Occulus Illudere from Tonks; _The Unofficial Auror Handbook_ by Alastor Mad-Eye Moody, complete with notes in the margins; and probably the most important book of them all, _The Utterly Complete and Ridiculous Laws of Wizarding England and How to Avoid Being Caught_ by Mallory Switchfoot, which he received from Dumbledore, which, of course, included an inscription on the inside saying that he hoped that Harry would never have to implement any of the knowledge he received from Mr. Switchfoot.

Before Harry knew it, after finishing all the books, save the books from Moony and Professor Dumbledore, three weeks had passed by and the summer was continuing to have high prospects. He had written to his friends, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna, giving them his greatest amounts of respect and appreciation for being there for him. However, none of them really found much to talk about in their letters. In the face of war, some things seem too trivial to even mention.

One of those trivial topics was the Olympics, which were about to start in two days time, and for the first time Harry actually cared about a muggle sporting event. What Harry liked the most about it was how people from all over, even in rivaling nations, could come together and compete and treat each other like equals. It was unfortunate that the wizarding world made so many sub groupings and segregations; it seemed like his world would never be united.

Strangely enough, that 25th of July saw way to a breakthrough in Harry's more private life. As he and Dudley were downstairs practicing on one of the heavy bags that Harry had become proficient at, Dudley called for a water break. After they sat down, Dudley turned his attention to Harry.

"Harry, I know I have not been the best cousin to you. Actually I'm a bloody awful cousin, but I want to make it up to you," Dudley left the sentence hanging so that he could gage Harry's response.

Harry involuntarily choked on his water as he heard this. _Make it up to me? How? This definitely isn't the Dudley I grew up with_. All that came out was a half whispered, "Why?"

"Because last year when those Demeintles, or whatever they were, attacked us I heard some things in my head…"

_What could Dudley hear that made him like this? It definitely wasn't the time he only got 30 something presents for his eleventh birthday_.

"…I remembered all the times that I, and my gang, would beat you up and it sickened me especially when I found out from mum that you tried to save me, even after the way I treated you. Nothing I can say will make it right, but I just want to give you one thing that no one here ever gave you," Dudley paused and brushed his hair back as he looked at Harry, "Will you come to a party with me?"

Harry was beyond himself at that point. What just happened? Did his cousin just ask him out? "Uh…Dudley…I'm not that…er…way…and I think that it's pretty bad to offer considering you're my cousin," Harry finished sliding down the bench away from Dudley.

Dudley just reached out and jokingly punched Harry in the shoulder, "You prat! I didn't mean it like _that_. Jeez! I meant it as in you coming to a friend's party, a new friend from this year who wasn't in my 'gang'. So that, you know, you can meet people, have fun and most importantly, have a life. Ever since you lived with us, you've never really had a life".

"Oh…well," started Harry.

"But if you think this means I'm going to be nice to you, you got the wrong idea. Up and at it, we got to practice," goaded Dudley. _Wow,_ thought Harry, _I'm actually going to a party. Dudley has been fairly nice to me, or maybe it is the lack of threats._

The party was planned to take place at one of Dudley's friend's house that was only a half-kilometer away, so it was well within the wards. It was scheduled for the 27th.

The 26th of July also saw three unknown owls arriving to Harry's windowsill. He relieved the first medium sized brown, tawny owl of its post, then moved onto to the barn owl that had some gray in between its brown feathers, and then he removed the load from a peculiar thunder grey owl. Harry took one of the posts that had a cream colour envelope with a purple wax and the seal of the Department of Education, Ministry of Magic. _Can only be one thing_._ In the scheme of things, Ordinary Wizarding Levels_ (O.W.L.s)_ don't seem to matter. Even if I can't become an Auror, I know I'm going to be fighting this war. _Harry removed the four pages from the envelope.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am pleased to present to you your Ordinary Wizarding Levels (O.W.L.s). Taking into account the many disturbances that were in your educational facility, the Examiner Council has decided to grade certain tests to a curve because of disruptions, loss of time and inability of certain Headmasters/Headmistresses. We, the Examiner Council, would like to offer an apology for the actions that were sanctioned while we were guests at your school.

The next page, when you have finished reading this letter, shall show you the grades from your exams. If there is any problem with the exam grade or missing grades, please notify the Department of Education immediately.

The third parchment is your course sign up sheet for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please note that there are certain requirements for classes that shall have to be filled. Also, upon entering your sixth year at Hogwarts, you have the choice of choosing up to four electives. Such electives are: Healing, Magical Law and Business, Intelligent and Sentient Beings and also Creation. You may also take an independent study that will be a course set to your own pace.

It was a pleasure having to grade your examinations and I hope to test you at Nearly Exhausting Wizarding Test exams.

Best of Wishes,

Examiner Thantos Tofty

_Interesting, to say the least, at least there were some apologies and a curve. Hermione will be happy now, _thought Harry as he went to check out what he had received for grades.

Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations Scores

Harry James Potter

A brief note from the Examiners:

Please keep in mind the grading system used by the examiners. Outstanding (O), Exceeds Expectations (E), and Acceptable (A) are the only passing grades and worth one O.W.L. each. Poor (P) and Dreadful (D) are the only failing grades and are not awarded any O.W.L.s. Astronomy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration are the only courses available that you can earn two O.W.L.s based on the practical and theoretical exams. All other courses can only receive one O.W.L.

Due to certain disturbances, the Astronomy and History of Magic O.W.L.s have all been curved.

The Examiners

Course: Grade:  
Astronomy:  
Practical P  
Theory A

Defense Against the Dark Arts:  
Practical O  
Theory O

Divination: P

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms:  
Practical O  
Theory E

Herbology: E

History of Magic: D

Potions:  
Practical E  
Theory P

Transfiguration:  
Practical O  
Theory E

Congratulations Mr. Potter! You have earned a total of 10 O.W.L.s out of a possible 14. Please refer to this sheet when choosing your courses for this coming year.

_Oh,_ was the only thought in Harry's head as he read his scores. _Eh, I'm not surprised about Potions or History of Magic really. Like I said, I was never meant to be an Auror. _Harry then put the post for his O.W.L.s away. He wanted to have some time to think about what classes he wanted to take for next year. That meant sending a letter to all his friends, wondering what they were taking. Harry wanted to be an auror, but that was at a time before prophecies and the death of loved ones. He was going to fight in this war, he acknowledged that he would have to, but he would not fight under Minister Fudge's rule. Many other people would fight that weren't aurors or Magical Law Enforcers.

After finishing his letters, Harry returned to his remaining mail. The letter the brown owl with the grey specks was in his hand and he knew who wrote it right away. Having only written to him briefly, thanking him for the book, Harry had not written to him since.

Dear Harry,

I haven't heard from you in a long time, granted I have not written to you either, till now. I just wanted to offer you something that I know Dumbledore would like me to. But seeing as I didn't want you to witness my most recent change, I waited till after the full moon. Granted I'm still weak, but the day after tomorrow, I would like to pick you up so that you could live with me till the 24th of August, the time of my next change.

I know it's rather abrupt with me offering it, but in the time I was thinking about it I was also preparing my house for your use. Harry, I know that you might not need it, based on the reports the Order gives me, but I need to speak to someone and I feel that you are the only person I have left as a connection. I know it is selfish of me to say this, but I would really like you to spend a month with me, it would mean a lot to me. If you don't send a response to this letter, I will come on the 28th no matter what.

See you soon,

Moony

That was one of last people that Harry expected to send him a letter. Moony, also know as Professor Remus John Lupin, was Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in his 3rd year. Lupin was also one of James Potter's, Harry's father, best friends. Lupin, along with Harry, had also lost Sirius Black, another of his best friends. Lupin's final living friend from his childhood was Peter Peteigrew, who was a secret spy for Voldemort who infiltrated the Order of the Phoenix, betrayed Harry's parents and framed Sirius for the murders of thirteen people. Peter was high on Harry's revenge list.

_It would be good to see Remus again, and to spend a month with him? That was almost like a dream come true._ Harry resolved himself to spend the time with Moony and to talk with him, though Harry planned to spend more time listening than talking. During the past three weeks, Harry contemplated more and more and realized that he didn't know that much about Sirius, or his father and mother. Blame it on the mentality the Dursley's originally instilled upon him of: Don't ask questions. Whatever the cause, Harry definitely wanted to find out now. So Harry went back to the basement, forgetting his third letter, to train with Dudley and tell him the party the next day was going to be his last time in the neighborhood this year, but he would return the next year.

That night, Harry opened his third piece of post. He noted the Gringotts Wizarding Bank seal. Harry wondered when the goblins would get around to doing this.

Sirius Black, the best friend of James Potter and Remus Lupin, was framed and condemned to Azkaban for twelve years, until he escaped in Harry's third year. He remained on the run till the June battle at the Department of Mystery. At that point, Sirius Black took an unknown hex to the chest and slipped into the Veil of Death.

Harry winced as his chest seized, he still felt guilty and knew it would never diminish. His only resolve was to train so that he could take his vengeance one day. Harry knew his destiny would make him into a soldier, a warrior, a fighter or whatever super testosterone title can be given to someone that can only survive through fighting. This soon to be sixteen year old thought of himself as being invincible, using the prophecy as his justified basis for this assumption. Harry unfurled the letter to read it.

The following testament is the last known accord of Mr. Black. Speaking as his attorney, the Ministry has allowed this will after examining the content displacement. Please note that Mr. Black requested separating his accounts to make the distribution easier.

My Greatest Sympathies,

Mr. Graham Kellpurn

Last Will and Testament of Sirius Oscar Black as by December 15th, 1995

**I, Sirius Oscar Black, herby write this as my last will and testament. Being of sound mind and extremely good looking body, make these decisions with full appreciation of the Goblin Nation for allowing the testament of a supposed criminal.**

**First off, I would like to leave 12 Grimauld Place to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore as it is under his Fidelius charm. I would suggest permanent boarding for Buckbeak, and would impress the issue that he be allowed on Hogwarts grounds under the keep of Rubeus Hagrid. **

**To the Tonks Family, who are my closest of kin both by blood and mentality, I leave one quarter of the Black Family Trust. It has already been separated into another vault so that you can retain the key, just as I have done for all my other vaults. Spend it on any thing you see fit to. **

**To my dearest friend Remus, I leave one quarter of the Black Family Trust. I also leave a flat in London that my Uncle Alphred bought for me between the time I spent at the Potter's and that little twelve year stay in Azkaban. I have dubbed it the Dog House and see it very fitting to give it to one of the remaining marauders. It's a true bachelor pad and an extra place for you Remus, besides your cottage. I also ask of you to watch Harry for me. I made the mistake of not trusting you once and I will never forgive myself. I will leave you with my undying friendship and trust. **

**To the Weasley's I leave half of the Black Family Trust. The whole family, sans Percy, is full of life and love. For people so rich in everything but money, I wish to contribute what little I had. I also would like you to watch out for Harry, which I know you will even with out my requesting it. **

**Finally, to Harry, I leave a special vault. This vault contains some marauder material along with a small armory. The armory is set up so that you can train to use other weapons besides spells. However, I have arranged for the vault only to be opened after your seventh year and under the instruction of someone I have already hired for you. You will just have to wait. My last bequest to you Harry is a small four room house on a Bahamian Island. To be exact it is Grand Bahamian Island, just outside of Freeport. It is the perfect vacation spot for the water, the beaches, the night life, and most importantly, the girls. I implore you Harry, to take at least one vacation there a year and to invite Remus with you, both of you need it. **

**Harry you might be wondering why I did not leave you any money and the answer is simple; go to Gringotts and get one of the goblins to take you to see your other assets. **

**Thus are my finale requests. I love you all deeply and hope that you all have some fun with what I left you. **

Sirius Oscar Black

**Sirius Oscar Black**

_Woah_ was the only thought that passed through Harry's head. He was happy that Tonks, Remus and the Weasleys were taken care of, but Sirius's cryptic ending confused him. Harry's next thought was on that Bahamian Island. Sure he missed Sirius and felt nothing could replace him, but a house on a Bahamian Island was just really nice. He wished he could be there with his Godfather, but he knew that it could never happen. _I should arrange it so that on the 23rd of August I could go to this vacation home before Remus' transformation and could stay there till the start of school. That would be nice, almost ten days in paradise. _Harry was happy to receive the island, _but some weapon proficiency would have been welcomed also. I guess I'll just have to wait till my seventh year._

Putting his letter away, setting the Hogwarts sixth year signup to the side for later, Harry fell fast asleep.

It was the 27th, and the party was at 11 p.m. that night, and Harry had no clue when it was going to end. That morning, Dudley took Harry to a small side store so that he might have something proper to wear, black shirt and blue jeans. For Dudley, it was another way to pay one of his many debts to Harry. All Harry really knew was that there were going to be a fair amount of girls and boys in attendance. The guys he could care less about because they weren't the jerks Dudley used to hang out with. The girls, on the other hand, made Harry nervous and excited. He was over Cho Chang, his first girlfriend, and wanted to move on. The only problem was that he never felt the same way around anyone like he did with Cho.

"Ready?" inquired Dudley.

"As much as I can be," said Harry, slipping on his black t-shirt, straitening it out slightly, trying to show his toned body.

The three weeks of training filled Harry out a bit and also gave him a nice toned look. It also gave him a growth spurt, sprouting up to five feet eight inches tall from his five foot five inch pre-summer height. Harry was fairly proud of his new look.

With that the two young men made their way to Rachel Cobbler's house, not only was she Dudley's friend but also an interest of his. However, like Harry, Dudley was pretty clueless when it came to women.

"Hello Dudley," beamed a very cheery redhead that, to Harry's mind, was fairly pretty. She was wearing a pleated navy skirt with a white top.

"Hullo Rach, this is my cousin Harry. Harry this is Rachel Cobbler," introduced Dudley.

"Nice to meet you, and thank you for having me," Harry offered as she started beaming at him. He then got a brilliantly wicked idea, and with a gleam in his eyes added, "Dudley's only told me the best things about you."

"Prat," hissed Dudley as he led Harry inside and made more introductions.

Everything was right boring and a lot of the people looked the same. _At least they're friendly_ Harry reminded himself. He reached for a red plastic cup for a drink of what he assumed was soda when Dudley introduced the last person.

"Harry, this is Summer De La Cruz. Summer, this is my cousin Harry," said Dudley as Harry was turning around in mid sip to meet the new comer. He choked and gagged, spitting in the cup both because he was surprised at the bitter taste and the fact that he was not expecting an extremely beautiful girl to be standing nigh two feet from him.

"Um…Hi," Harry greeted Summer as he placed the cup on a side table.

"Hi," she replied shuffling her feet. Summer De La Cruz stood at about five feet one inch tall with bronze skin, brownish gold eyes with a rather petite figure. Her hair was long, dark brown and very wavy as it seemed to glide off her shoulders onto her back. She wore olive green khakis with a navy blue tank top. When she looked down and smiled, still shuffling her feet, Harry knew that Cho was only just a distant memory.

"Would you like a cup," offered Harry as he waved his hand to the red cups. Summer scrunched up her nose and declined. "Phew!" exclaimed Harry, "That stuff was way too bitter for my liking." Summer just giggled cutely.

"Have you never had beer before?" Summer inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh…er…not really," _Butterbeer definitely didn't taste like that!_

"That's good because I find it too bitter also," she offered so Harry wouldn't take any offence.

"Hey," Harry said with a gleam in his eyes as he saw the dance floor, "would you care to dance? Or actually teach me how to, is more like it."

"You don't know how to?"

"Nope, this is the second place I've been to where there was dancing, and trust me, the first time wasn't all that successful," replied Harry. "In fact, I was utter rubbish and my date went off with some French bloke."

"Okay, now I've got to teach you," she replied, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor, "can't have all the cute guys lose to the French."

Harry laughed and then raised his eyebrow, "so you think I'm cute?"

"Just keep quiet and let me teach you how to dance." Summer then took his hands and placed them on her hips. Harry visible gulped but she let it roll off her shoulders, "This is a salsa, it's upbeat, fast and Latin." She then demonstrated some of the finer moves in salsa dancing.

They went through several different styles of dancing till they came to one that both were wishing for.

"This is a slow dance song," Summer said as she leaned in closer to Harry so he could wrap his arms around her back. She draped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest.

Harry, having no clue what came over him, leaned into her ear and whispered, "You have no clue how long I've been waiting for a song like this with you," but what shocked Harry most was Summer's response.

"As long as I have been waiting too," she practically purred.

After the song, Harry and Summer worked their way to the outside to get some fresh air and talk. They talked about nothing and everything. Harry just lost all thought in what he was saying as he looked into those golden brown eyes. It pained him to say next what he had to say.

"Summer, I like you, but I need to tell you that I'm leaving for the rest of the summer tomorrow," Harry finished and hung his head down.

"It's okay, I'm leaving in two days, so nothing major could have happened between us. I'm happy to have met you," she finished as Harry started to brush a strand of her wavy brown hair. She looked up at him and in that blissful moment, Harry lost all thought of parties, wars and training. He just savored the thick juicy lips that his were pressing against. They both knew that it wasn't soul mates or any of that Hallmark mumbo jumbo. It was just a summer fling that was only meant for the enjoyment of two people for a short amount of time.

That is how Harry left the party with Dudley, just remembering the kiss he shared with Summer. They exchanged addresses so that they could write to each other, but both knew that it would be unlikely.

On the way back to the house, Dudley could only stare at his cousin. Before opening the door, Dudley asked, "So how did you enjoy your summer so far?"

All Harry could respond was, "I think I happen to like summer," and with that ambiguous statement, both young men walked into the house at three in the morning of July 28th.


	2. Spinners End

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor anthing that is closely similiar. There is no money being made, I just wanted to tell a story for free.

Again I would like to thank my Beta, Nita. She has really helped me update and sort out this fic.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By Forfie 

Chapter 2.) Spinners End

Harry woke up at six a.m. that morning. _Damn! Only three hours of sleep. Could have been worse. And I still need to pack_. The second he got out of the bed he noticed that Remus's brown and grey speckled owl was on his windowsill. As he reached out and grabbed the bird's letter; he suddenly remembered he still had to finish that post from the Department of Education. Looking down at the letter as he untied it, he realized it was only four words long: See you at eleven.

That gave Harry four hours to pack and workout with an extra hour to clean up. _Perfect_. Harry got to packing, placing all of his borrowed books into his school satchel. Harry made a note to go to a bag shop in Diagon Alley to buy an enlarged carrier.

Harry and Dudley's last session consisted of some intense sparring that turned into a stalemate due to Harry's stamina and Dudley's strength. They gave up at 9:30 and turned on the small telly in the basement to watch the news.

_The world shook last night, not just for the start of the Olympics in Atlanta, Georgia, but because some unknown person or persons detonated a bomb resulting in the death of one person and injuries to more than a hundred people. Hopefully this will not lead to an incident similar to that of the 1972 Munich Olympics in which… _

Dudley turned off the telly and Harry couldn't thank him enough. For all the good that was going to happen today, this one bad thing might have just wrecked it. He was looking forward to the Olympics because it meant brotherhood and honored rivalry, and all of that was taken away with a flick of a switch.

"I saw you and Summer getting pretty close at the party," said Dudley trying to get their minds on something happier. "Heck, I hardly saw either of you. So you going to tell me what happened?"

Dudley finished as he playfully nudged Harry in the ribs, while wagging his eyebrows.

"Oh, nothing much," lied Harry and then continued evasively, "She taught me how to dance."

"The horizontal shuffle?" quipped Dudley.

"Git," hissed Harry as he shoved his cousin. "How did you and Rachel workout?"

Now it was time for Dudley to blush and mumble something trivial. They continued teasing each other till ten o'clock, when both had to go and get cleaned up for the day. After his shower, Harry put on the black shirt and jeans that he wore to the party the night before. It was his only proper fitting set of clothes he owned. He took his trunk, owl cage and book satchel downstairs to meet Moony, at least that is where he thought he would meet him.

Harry sat there for a while just pondering to himself. _Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia have made themselves scarce this summer. Maybe it was for the best. I wonder how Remus is going to arrive. So far the Weasleys have used a flying car and the floo. The Order has used brooms. Once it was by Ministry cars. Whatever it is, I'm sure Remus will be original. _

Harry got up from his stupor to answer the door when he heard the knock. Remus stood in the doorway looking as weary and gaunt as ever, albeit more fashionable in a new polo shirt and jeans. He was tapping a letter against his legs as he took in the site of Harry. With no communication, both Harry and Remus embraced each other.

"What's the letter for Professor Lupin?" he asked.

"It's just a note for your Uncle and Aunt about where you are going, Harry," replied Remus, ruffling Harry's hair. "How are you…coping?"

"Okay I guess, I made a promise to myself to stop saying fine," replied Harry a little downcast. "I think I've come to terms about it, it's just hard. How are you Professor Lupin?"

"Please Harry, call me Moony if you can't call me Remus just yet," begged Professor Lupin as he wiped his face with his hand, "I'll be fine…one day."

"Okay Moony," said Harry with a small smile as he patted his father and godfather's best friend on the back.

Remus picked up Harry's trunk and cage and started to haul it outside. "Er…Moony? How are we getting to wherever it is we are going?"

"By my car to the London flat Sirius left me," said Remus as he was loading up the back of an orange 1960's Volkswagen Baja Bug. "It seemed more fitting because it was only five blocks from Diagon Alley."

"Perfect, I wanted to check out some stuff from Diagon Alley," said an enthused Harry as he put his school bag in the back seat, "Of course it would have to be with your permission."

"I don't see any reason why you couldn't go to Diagon Alley as long I or another Order member was with you."

Just as Harry thought, he always had to have a constant watch. Remus just gave Harry a new game though: ditch the guard. They both jumped into the Bug and were on their way to London.

"Surrey to London is a long trip by muggle car," started Lupin, "It'll be about and hour and half if the traffic is easy. So how do you like the books so far Harry?"

"Well I've read _Tribal African Incantations, Wards and Protections_; _Who, What, When, Where, Why & How: The Art of Illusion_; and Moody's _Unofficial Auror Handbook_," replied Harry, "I haven't even touched _The Art of Dueling_ or Dumbledore's ridiculously big book yet. Have you seen that thing? It probably weighs more than all of Hogwarts."

"Okay, I get the picture," Remus chuckled, "Just make sure to read Sun Gao's book though, you will need it."

"Okay," answered Harry.

"Harry, I hate to bore you and considering the night you had," Remus gave a small wink, "I think it would be good for you to catch some sleep."

Harry knew that Remus was right, but grumbled at the thought of the Order spying on him. He was definitely going to have to lose them once and awhile in Diagon Alley. With that Harry began to drift off…

_The dream started out as if he were at the party last night. He was dancing with Summer, and then they moved in closer as a slow song started to play. Harry and Summer just shuffled around in a small circle embracing each other, Harry caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. _

_First he thought he saw himself dancing with Rachel Cobbler, but on a second look, he thought it was his mother and father dancing. He shifted his footing and caught a glimpse of two people he had only seen once before; they were the grey shadow of a man with a cane and what was supposed to be Bertha Jorkins dancing with each other. _

_Next he saw Cedric Diggory leaning against a wall drinking from a red plastic cup looking fondly at the dance floor. Then there was a skinny pale man examining one of the plants, his name escaped Harry but he knew this didn't bode well._

_Harry stared at all these supposedly dead people with goose pimples running up and down his arms. The hair on the back of his neck started to prickle with a strange feeling, and then someone tapped his shoulder. _

"_May I have this next dance?" came the playfully growled question that turned into a bark of laughter. _

_Harry turned around to glance upon long black hair, grey eyes and the smile of a dog right before he woke up. _

"Harry," said Remus as he prodded Harry, "Wake up, we're here."

He awoke to stare up at an immense white façade of a housing complex. The complex had twelve floors, including the lobby. As he stepped out of the Bug, Harry noted that the lobby was fairly posh with several gilded Victorian replicas placed around for congregating. Harry was relieved that there was a lift because he didn't want Remus to haul his trunk up to the top floor where Remus said the condo was.

When the doors of the lift opened, Harry's jaw dropped when he saw the whole entire space of the top floor was the condo. Up to that point, Harry just expected it to be one of four sections, but this just shocked him. He would be spending a month in a place that was Sirius's Shag Central. _Wait, what did Sirius say he named his flat?_ Harry pondered as he was gaining back his thought process, _ah, yes. He called it the Dog House, I can see why now. _

Harry walked in and glided his hand against one of the three black leather couches that made a semi-circle in front of a big screen telly. He jumped into the couch facing directly to the telly and put his feet on the mahogany coffee table. Harry looked to the left of the room to see a giant walk-in granite fireplace surrounded by two black, leather, winged-back chairs with ottomans and a mahogany side table.

_I wonder if it is connected to the floo network_ thought Harry idly as he walked up the stairs the led to the roof and stopped to examine the kitchen that was divided from the house by a tabletop surrounded by four stainless steel stools. The kitchen in fact was mostly stainless steel appliances and mahogany wood counters and cabinets. Upon entering the kitchen, Harry opened the door to the immediate left and stepped into a dinning room that consisted of a long mahogany dining table surrounded by sixteen black, leather, winged-back chairs.

Harry then walked to the end of the room, noting that it was 35 feet long and 25 feet wide. _Maybe all the rooms on the north end are like this,_ thought Harry as he walked to the opposing wall where another door stood; opening it he saw a workout room equipped with a treadmill, bench press, a rowing machine, and even a heavy bag. _An extremely good-looking body,_ Harry snorted as he remembered one of Sirius's lines from the will.

Harry walked through the door on the adjacent wall that lead back to what Harry now dubbed the welcoming room. Stepping through, he first saw the two gigantic bookcases that framed the lift and then one door to the extreme left and another to the extreme right.

"Remus," said Harry as Moony tried to hold in his laughter from the look of tremendous surprise on the young man's face, and how Harry looked so much like his father when he first visited Sirius' flat.

"Yes, Harry?" asked Remus with an amused face.

"Are those our rooms?" he finished pointing to the opposite wall.

"Yes, Harry. Your room is on the right. I already set my stuff up in the left one. Both have bathrooms that consist of a bathing tub that also has a shower head for a standing shower with other bathroom necessities, king sized beds and a wall that is one giant closet," finished Remus as he moved Harry's trunk to the end of a giant bed with navy blue sheets and light blue quilt in the right bedroom.

The house wasn't as fancy as Harry imagined someone like Malfoy's to be; it was more relaxed, manly and inviting. When Harry and Remus made it back to the welcoming room, they both sat on opposite couches, just taking it easy.

"Moony, how…um…er…_safe_ is it here?" questioned Harry.

"It's fairly safe," affirmed Remus as he relaxed into the couch, "Not as safe as the blood protection you had with your aunt, but safe enough. There is of course an anti-apparition ward, untrackable and untraceable charms, the fireplace behind me is only connected to Dumbledore's office, and the lift only recognizes two magical signatures for this level, yours and mine. The only way for people to get up here is if we allow them by free choice. Not to mention that no one knows we're here because this place hasn't been lived in since 1981."

"Really? How come there isn't any dust," asked Harry as he rubbed the leather checking his hand for dust.

"Anti-dust charms of course," laughed Moony as he watched Harry. "Harry, this house is a good balance between magic and muggle. It is not like Hogwarts so electrical equipment will work in here. It's quite nice for a Dog House."

Both of them started laughing thinking about the humour of his late friend.

"So, Moony, are you going to tell me?" asked Harry, "You know, I have a right to know what the darkest wizard of all time is doing."

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask," said Remus as he leaned forward and put his head between his hands. "The last attack was yesterday at the Olympics, though the muggles will acknowledge it as some crazed person. The message Voldemort was trying to put through, as best as we can tell, was that all those that assist us would suffer loss."

Harry, mimicking Remus' motion, leaned forward with his head in his hands, _how could that bastard? _

"Any good news?" he requested with a small laugh.

"Some," replied Remus as he picked himself up a bit. "We are getting about a hundred Aurors from France, Germany, Spain, Bulgaria and Russia. But the Yanks, since both the muggle and magical governments have good relations, are sending two hundred Aurors. Our own forces stand at about seven hundred-fifty with another two hundred-fifty coming from Ireland since our alliance treaty from the first war. The Department of Magic Law Enforcement is split in between the war and civil safety, hence the packets on safety that are coming out in a day."

"Ever since the Dementors left Azkaban, there have been twenty-one Aurors and twenty-four MLEs on guard in the North Sea with alternating shifts every day. Most of this is thanks to Dumbledore, so it's getting stronger, and he is still in negotiation with the African and Middle Eastern Ministries. The Asian Ministries refuse to get involved till they are attacked, they obviously don't remember how it was last time," Remus finished with a snarl.

"Well it is good to know that something is being done," commented Harry. "It's better to know that Fudge isn't handling that much…"

"_Minister _Fudge," Remus practically spat out, "is handling enough. The fool is starting to push the goblins around a little too much because they refused to fund some of the Ministry needs. I don't blame them, especially considering how the Ministry treats all 'sentient beings'."

Harry knew the one thing that most people who truly knew Remus never remembered was the fact that Lupin was considered to be one of these 'sentient beings' because of his lycanthropy.

"Is the Order trying to do anything?" asked Harry.

"There is not much the Order can do to change popular opinion," answered a defeated werewolf who thought not only about his own condition but that of the ruined good name of his friend, Sirius Black.

The conversation turned to some lighter topics, like a planned visit to Diagon Alley tomorrow, maybe one to Leicester Square later on, another one to China Town, Piccadilly Circus and Trocadero Centre. These might be good places to visit, too. Many places were accessible to wizards and muggles who lived in London.

The subsequent day saw an excited Harry finish his exercises early, including the nice jog he had on the open roof that had Astroturf flooring. By far, the best thing he saw today was the sunrise when he first investigated the open roof. It was a beautiful orange and red that melted away at the purple and navy blue night. Seeing both sun and stars at the same time was just a majestic splendor that could be used as a metaphor for so many antithetical couples, like yin and yang, good and evil. Harry just took in this sight for its face value.

Harry took a quick shower to clean off and then put on some of Dudley's old clothes, _I should ask if I could go out and get some new clothes,_ he thought as he pulled on the extra material of his clothes with a disgusted look on his face. Harry got out of his room and knocked on Remus' door.

"Mmmph," was the only response from Moony so Harry knocked loader, "Mmmph, what is it? Who is it?"

"It's Harry," he said hiding a snicker because he thought his best friend, Ron Weasley, would have made the same response, "And I was wondering if you wanted any breakfast."

With that the door opened and out walked Remus with his hair matted and sticking out to one side as he rubbed at his eyes wearing green striped pajamas. "So what's for breakfast?"

"What's in the fridge?" asked Harry.

"There's a fridge?" Remus asked with mock shock.

"Prat!" was all Harry said as he pushed Remus and walked over to the kitchen.

Moony walked up to the bar and took a seat on one of the stools. "Harry, are you sure you want to cook?"

"Can you cook, Moony?" replied Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"I can make…uh…toast," said Remus.

They both laughed.

"I'll make some eggs and bacon," said Harry taking out four eggs and six strips of bacon and a frying pan, "You can make some toast and pour some juice."

"Aye, Aye Cap'n," barked Remus giving a salute.

Several minutes later, Harry and Remus were enjoying bacon, scrambled eggs, toast and some pumpkin juice. Harry mused for a few seconds on how it was nice to have some things that resemble Hogwarts. Then the conversation turned to what they were going to do in Diagon alley today.

"Remus, is it okay if I get some new clothes today?" asked Harry as he once again pulled some of the extra material like he had done earlier that morning, "Because the muggle clothes I do have don't fit. I also need new wizarding clothes too because I grew three inches this summer already."

"Sure, no problem," said Remus, "Now that you mention it I could use some new robes as well."

"I would like to pay for them for you," said Harry, "Think of it as two years of missed birthday presents and Christmas gifts."

"No, Harry, Sirius left me enough money to pay for myself," said Remus and with a smirk added, "However, a very good birthday present and Christmas gift would be welcomed this year."

"Okay," conceded Harry in defeat, "That reminds me, Sirius mentioned something in his will, too, about my other assets at Gringotts."

For some reason, saying Sirius' name didn't hurt anymore; maybe it was because he was sharing it with Moony.

"Should be no problem," replied Remus as he took a bite of toast and chewed it, "Is there anything else we need to do today?"

"Well," started Harry.

"Oh I can't wait to hear this!" cried out Remus, "Probably something crazy that Sirius or you father would want. Is it a tattoo? Body piercing? Something like that?"

"Actually I wanted to see if I could get something that would keep me from having to visit Gringotts every time I wanted to buy something. But a tattoo would be nice now that you mention it," Harry finished off handedly.

"Fine!" said Remus in defeat as he put his head in his hands, "Your father had two and Sirius had one, so why not?"

"My dad had two?" inquired Harry, "What were they of?"

"One was just the letters M, W, P, P on his shoulder…"

"What does that stand for?" asked Harry as he started to pick up his dish to wash it.

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs of course. Anyway, he got his second tattoo after proposing to Lily. It was of a white lily, which he had placed over his heart. Let me tell you that your mother _loved_ that," Remus finished making the sentence drip with sarcasm.

Harry just smiled and went to take Remus's plate, "What was Sirius's of?"

Remus at that point took off his pajama top to reveal a black letter tattoo that read MWPP.

"We all got the same tattoo after we graduated. It was friendship thing. Tattoos aren't something to do lightly Harry; I'll let you get one or two, but just keep in mind that these are _magical_ tattoos. They all carry certain charms, but on the rare occasion, if the tattoo artist slips on the needle, the charm could become a hex, or worse, a permanent curse," finished Remus sitting down somberly, putting a his pajama top back on.

"What is the magic in yours?" asked Harry.

Remus took a deep sigh. "It told your father, me, Sirius and Peter if one of us was betraying the group, however it never told us which one. That's why in the 1970's Order of the Phoenix; we were at least able to narrow the traitor down to one of four people. Two of those people were taken off the list of possible traitors and the rest of the Order assumed it was me because of what I was. It wasn't my proudest moment."

"Moony, that was the understatement of the year!" shouted Harry.

Moony smiled because he trusted Harry and he knew that Harry trusted him, "I'll go get ready and then we'll leave, okay?"

"Go!" shouted an excited Harry, "Shower and change, I want to be there some time this summer!"

With that Remus went back into his room to get ready.

Since the Leaky Cauldron was only five blocks away and July 29 brought such beautiful weather, Harry and Remus walked to Charing Cross Road noting all of the stores, parks and places they wanted to visit during their time in London. They both walked into the Leaky Cauldron at the same time to find the small establishment crowded with wizards and witches of all shapes and sizes. Harry also thought he saw some goblins coming in and out, probably on their lunch breaks.

"Hello, Tom," greeted Remus stretching his hand out to the toothless barkeeper.

"Hello, Mr. Lupin and hello, Mr. Potter," he acknowledged Harry with a hushed voice so that no one would overhear, "How may I help you two?"

"Tom, I was wondering if Harry and I could reserve a private lunch room for later today?" asked Remus as he leaned on the bar table to whisper something Harry couldn't hear into Tom's ear.

"I see," started the bartender, "Everything will be arranged, Mr. Lupin, Have a good stay in Diagon Alley, Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin."

"Thank you Tom," they both said at the same time and looked at each other and laughed.

With that, they left through the back to tap the brick that would take them to the busy shopping district that was Diagon Alley. Awe inspiring as ever due to all of the people crowded on the street, Harry just wondered how many magical people there could be in the world.

"Harry, I think that trip to Gringotts is called for first," offered Remus with a small push to Harry's back to get him to move.

"Yeah," was Harry's only response as they made their way to the great white marble edifice that was Britain's Wizarding Bank.

They pushed though the bronze and silver doors to get to Gringotts main lobby. As busy as the street was, the bank by far was busier and more packed with people trading, withdrawing, and depositing galleons, sickles, knuts and jewels.

Harry saw an empty spot on the counter and made his way over. The goblin, upon seeing Harry make his way for him, blocked all others from taking Harry's spot.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," said the short swarthy looking goblin, "How might I help you?"

Harry was trying to remember what this goblin's name was because he had only seen one goblin every time he visited Gringotts.

"Good morning Mr. Griphook, I was wondering if I might see my vault," began Harry taking a risky step.

"It is good to see that you remember me Mr. Potter, however I would understand if you didn't, as most of wizard-kind wouldn't," stated Griphook, "May I please have your key?"

"Actually, I recently got word that there are other assets under my name. Could I possibly go and see those today?"

"Oh most certainly, I shall accompany you myself Mr. Potter," said Griphook as he placed an away sign on his counter and walked Harry over to the vaults as Remus went to go talk with another goblin.

"Griphook, won't I need a key?" asked Harry.

"Oh no, Mr. Potter," stated Griphook as he lead Harry into a cart, "It is password and touch activated."

With that the cart gave a giant lurch and started to wind down the track to the vaults. Traveling at speeds that Harry thought no one could travel at with out liquefying, the cart suddenly stopped in front of two massive black doors that had a giant Gringotts gold and green symbol on it.

"Mr. Potter," said Griphook as he got out of the cart with a lantern, "This is one of Gringotts finest vaults. It was designed by Grendel, one of the Goblin Nation's best leaders, who lost his life in the Goblin Revolution of 1623. This is the only design and has only been used since November 2nd of the year 1981. The contents of this vault are only accessible to two people."

"And who might these two people be?" inquired Harry.

"You, Mr. Potter, of course and the current Minister of Magic," Griphook spat out the title of the Minister.

"Fudge can get into my vault?" exclaimed a wide-eyed Harry.

"Minister Fudge can do no such thing, thus is the beauty of the system," replied the goblin with a smirk.

"And that reason is?" pushed Harry.

"Mr. Potter, please place your hand on the Gringotts seal and say the name of You-Know-Who," replied Griphook with a bigger smirk.

Then is dawned on Harry, _Voldemort is the password! Now I know why Fudge couldn't retrieve the money, he could never open the door._ With that Harry placed his hand on the seal and said Voldemort loudly.

The ground began to quake and Griphook's smile turned into pure glee. Harry couldn't help but to think something went horrible wrong until he saw the start of a glint of gold. Harry took in the whole sight of the doors as they began to vanish right before his eyes. His eyes doubled in size upon seeing the stacks of gold inside. _Gold must have been piled three stories high!_

"Griphook," stammered Harry, "Is this my family's vault?"

"This Mr. Potter," said Griphook with a sweep to the contents of the vault, "Is your reward from defeating You-Know-Who in 1981. Bartemius Crouch Sr., as leader of the Magical Law Enforcement at the time, offered a one million-galleon bounty for the capture or death of You-Know-Who. This vault, under pressure from Minister Bagnold, was set up discreetly. The Goblin Nation, as recognition of destroying the wizard that killed a whole goblin family, set the interest rate of this vault to five per cent per year. This is the highest rate ever given in the history of goblin banking."

"I'm glad that you showed me this Griphook," said Harry.

"As am I, sir, considering a letter from Gringotts just reached the Minister's desk this morning informing him of this vault," said Griphook, "You have undoubtedly heard about how the Ministry is leaning on the goblins for loans. Since we are unable to comply, we searched for an outlet or money resource that the Minister could use and not revoke our charter. This was the resource that we found. That is unless the owner claimed the vault. The Ministry is most likely going to claim that since you did not defeat You-Know-Who the first time they would repossess all moneys in this vault. I'm giving you the option of stopping that from happening, possibly getting the Minister in worse public relation and discontinuing the influx of money to a corrupted and Death Eater saturated government."

Harry just smiled and saw all the good that could come from him keeping this vault. "How do I make sure the Ministry can't get to my money?"

"It's very simple, Mr. Potter," said Griphook as he lead Harry to the immediate right on the inside where another Gringotts seal was placed, "Just place your hand on the seal and say: 'Sans Minister of Magic', and he shall not be able to open it."

Harry placed his hand on the seal and spoke loudly again.

"Sans Minister of Magic," and let go once he felt a tingling sensation, "Griphook, is there anything else I should know about this vault?"

"Yes, sir," replied Griphook a little disconcertedly, "The magic that was designed into this vault made it so that any goblin accompanying one of the two wizards keyed to the vault will become bonded to the vault. The best metaphor I can use is that I just became the vault's financial advisor."

_Brilliant_, thought Harry.

"You're very sly Griphook, and loyal, too. I have learned to appreciate slyness this summer. I think you would make a great advisor; I just wished I had known before hand."

_Not like you would have chosen any other goblin._

"Is there anything else Mr. Potter?" asked a pleased Griphook.

"Actually two things," said Harry, "I was wondering if there was a way for me to talk to you about this vault in the public without having anyone else know what I'm talking about."

"Are you asking what I think you're asking, Mr. Potter?" said a stoic goblin, "Because there are only two ways to learn Gobbledegook, a fast way and a slow way."

"I guess I'll take the fast way," said a hesitant Harry.

"Mr. Potter, what I am about to do is something a goblin can only do once. I will infuse the goblin language into your mind, Mr. Potter, so that you will be able to speak it at will. All that will be done is that a small tattoo, about the size of a playing card, will be placed on the back of your right calf. It will be painful for a second, but it will go away."

Harry just nodded as Griphook walked behind him. The goblin lifted up Harry's right pant leg. Griphook muttered something in harsh guttural language and then tapped two of his long fingers into the back of Harry's leg. Searing pain shot through Harry's leg, it felt worse then any leg cramp he had ever gotten after a harsh qudditch practice; all he could do was wince as the pain started to fade.

"Grulth b'lak dah?" asked Griphook in an incomprehensible language.

"What?" asked Harry.

"I said: Can you hear me?" replied Griphook.

"Of course I can hear you!" said Harry, "Look Griphook, I don't think it worked."

"Mr. Potter, what language are you speaking?" inquired a smirking goblin.

"English of course," replied Harry.

"Mr. Potter, you will find that you are speaking the goblin language," finished Griphook.

Harry was in shock for a few seconds before requesting to see what the tattoo was of. Griphook conjured a three-way mirror for Harry to use. Looking at himself, Harry saw the dark green tattoo of a pickaxe and shovel crossed over a 'G'. He thought it looked pretty good and decided that dark green was going to be the color for the other tattoos he planned to get.

"Thank you Griphook," Harry said in Gobbledegook.

"Your welcome Mr. Potter, I feel proud to give a good wizard this gift," he finished.

"Now, onto the second thing I would be wanting," continued Harry, not wanting to dwell on any praise, "I was wondering if there is any way that I could get to my money without having to visit Gringotts every time, and to spend it in the Wizarding world as well as the muggle world."

"Oh, most certainly Mr. Potter," said Griphook as he started to walk out side of the vault, "Just follow me upstairs and I can arrange everything for you."

Harry got into the cart and saw the doors turn back to their opaque appearance as he traveled up the rail system on the cart. The return car was slower because it had to climb up steep hills, but Harry and Griphook made it to the lobby again and set to work. Griphook left Harry at the counter they originally used, and walked away to get the paper work. Harry saw Remus approach him.

"What took you so long?" the older wizard asked.

"I just found out I'm richer than you or I probably thought," replied Harry.

"Huh?" was the only word Remus was able to say.

"I'll tell you later," said Harry, "At home, away from all of these people."

"Okay. Fine," said Remus as Griphook approached with two papers and a plastic card.

"Mr. Potter, this," said Griphook in Gobbledegook and placed one of the letters on the counter, "is the invoice of that vault I just showed you, both in wizarding money and muggle currency."

Harry looked at the paper and nearly fainted, _I have 2,038,711 Galleons, 5 sickles, 6 knuts, and that equals to **£10,193,556!**_At that point Harry went gaunt and had to hold onto the counter for support.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Potter?" asked a concerned goblin.

"Yes, quite alright," said Harry trying to compose himself, "I just didn't think that what I saw was _that_ much."

"That is what happens to a continuous compounding interest, Mr. Potter," said the Griphook as he hand Harry the second paper, "Please sign here sir to activate your Gringotts' spending card,"

Harry took the paper and signed his name right away on it. Griphook took the signed contract and pressed the back of the plastic card to the signature. The card glowed green at first and then switched to gold. Griphook then handed Harry the card that was green and in the middle it had a gold 'G' imprinted.

"Er…. Griphook, how do I use this?" asked Harry.

"It's quite easy Mr. Potter," said Griphook, "In the wizarding world you press the seal against a receipt and it will be withdrawn from your vault, if you wanted something by owl order, you would press it to the picture of the item you want and it shall be paid for and delivered because the company will receive an invoice from the bank with your current location. Don't worry it is all confidential and can only work in your hands so no one is able to take it. In the muggle world, have you ever seen a credit card or ATM card used?"

"Yes, my aunt and uncle are muggle," confirmed Harry.

"Well, it works like a credit card, except the money will be transferred to a fake company we created to distribute payments to muggles businesses. However, if you want to buy something without 'charging' it, you can place the card in any ATM machine and type in the code 492 as your PIN. It works in a similar manner as the credit card."

"Sounds good Griphook," said Harry as he started to prepare to leave, "Thank you so much for all your help, I don't know what I would have done without you, and thank you for the gift also."

Harry finished and stuck out his hand for the goblin to shake.

Griphook looked slightly confused and flattered because a wizard almost never complimented a goblin, but this boy, no, this young man was treating him as an equal and a friend. Griphook shook Harry's hand; neither knowing that their newfound friendship would become one of the keystones in the war against Voldemort. The spinning of fate had begun.

Harry and Remus made their way out of Gringotts and back onto the street to enjoy a day of shopping.

"Moony, what time is it?" asked Harry.

"I thought you had a watch," replied Remus as he searched his pockets for his watch.

"I did," said Harry as he lifted his wrist to showcase the broken watch, "but it stopped working ever since the second task of the Triwizard Tournament."

"Well I'll give you a new one in a couple of days," said Remus with a smirk, "By the way, it is ten o'clock."

"I spent two hours in there?" asked Harry stopping him in the middle of the street.

"You said something about finding out new information," began Remus, "And you also said you would tell me when we got back to the house."

"Yeah, yeah I remember," said Harry as they continued to walk down the street, "So where to first?"

"We both need clothes," thought Moony out loud, "and that would take about three hours. Oh, I forgot to mention, Madame Malkin has started a new clothing line style, it's all charmed muggle clothes. Stuff like anti-dust charms, anti-winkle charms and non-fade charms, I think it would be a good buy for you and I. However, I think you should get your tattoos first."

"Why Moony?"

"Because it will take up the least amount of time and we could also check out a very nice store next to it," he finished with a knowing wink.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to be embarrassed royally?" asked Harry as Moony lead the way to the tattoo parlour.

The tattoo place's name was a little upsetting to Harry, as it would upset any semi-sane person, because the sign outside read: Patrick's Prick Parlour. Next door to the 'Prick Parlour' was a used bookstore that Harry didn't find all that interesting and a store that had its windows covered with bamboo stocks. Harry assumed that was the place Remus mentioned early, but he had no idea what it could be.

Stepping inside of the tattoo parlour, Harry noticed all the different designs on the walls. Some were stationary like normal tattoos; others glowed, pulsed, moved around freely, or vibrated. Harry didn't want to know why people would buy a vibrating tattoo. Then he saw two designs that he instantly knew he had to have. One was of an eye in what Harry thought was a weird yet cool style and the other seemed to be symbol in another language.

"'Ow may ah 'elp yeh?" asked a portly man wearing a leather dragon vest with no shirt, showing off his tattoo covered chest and arms.

"Patty, you don't remember me?" asked Remus to whom Harry assumed was Patrick, the owner of the store.

"Cor Blimey!" exclaimed the man as he embraced Remus in a bear hug, "Ah'd ne'er thought Ah'd see yeh 'ere 'gain, Rem. Wha' can Ah do fer an ol' frien'?"

"Actually, Patty, I'm not here for anything," said Remus as he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled, "However, my friend, Harry, here, would like something."

"'Arry?" said a befuddled Patrick as he looked at Harry.

"Yes, Patty," said Remus as he looked around the store to make sure there was no one else around, "Harry Potter."

"Hullo," was all Harry could get off before Patrick went into a rant and shook Harry's hand with a lot of enthusiasm.

"Ah can' b'lieve mah eyes. 'Arry Pott'r is in mah tattoo sh'p. Why Ah 'member 'en Ah inked your fa'er. Ah tell yeh lad, Ah ain't ne'er 'eard a grown man scream like dat. Wha' can Ah get fer yeh, youn' 'Arry?" Patrick finished as he led Harry to the walls.

Harry pointed to an eye that he saw in the Egyptian section.

"Ah dat un?" asked Patrick, "Dat dere 's a good choice."

Patrick gave Harry a binder from the section that told him more about the symbols history.

The Eye of Horus:

According to legend, Horus, an Egyptian deity represented by a man with an eagle's head, was the son of Osiris. During a rebellion, Seth, who led the rebellion, committed a great injustice by brutally murdering his brother, Osiris. Horus became eager to avenge his father's death and sought to kill Seth, who is represented by a man with the head of snake.

During the battle between Horus and Seth, Horus' left eye was ripped out by the murderous Seth. After the battle that left Seth castrated and wandering the desert for eternity, Thoth, the God of magick, restored Horus' eye, After the restoration, some stories state, Horus made a gift of the eye to Osiris, which allowed this solar deity to rule the underworld.

_Perfect_ was all Harry could think about when he first saw it because it reminded him of how his father was betrayed by his friend, but what Harry liked most of all was that justice was served. _One day I will do the same to Pettigrew, _Harry vowed to himself. This tattoo felt like it was destined for him.

"Sir, I was wondering if I could get another tattoo with this one," asked Harry hesitantly.

"Yeh wan' two tattoos?" asked Patrick

"Harry, don't you think you should take it easy?" asked Remus, "We could always return."

"There was another one I saw that I liked too," said Harry as he lead both of them to the wall section that said India, "Do you have a book listing on that one also?"

"Sur' Ah do laddy," said Patrick as he handed Harry another book to look up the symbol.

Omkar:

Is the Sanskrit word or representation of Aum or Om. Omkar is made up a four parts: The ordinary waking or material state; the state of deep sleep; the dream state; and the state of absolute conscience also known as the awakened state.

As legend goes, Buddhist monks study and meditate for many years repeating a mantra, or phrase, in which the symbol of Omkar is used. Some of these monks are said to develop a state of mind that melds the real physical world with dream or mental world.

_I guess tattoos can be like wands and choose the person_, thought Harry, _I wonder how much this is going to cost me. This might have some helpful power in it considering last year and how Voldemort planted those dreams, _considered Harry. _Maybe this will help me control the situation a bit more._

"Mr. Patrick, I would like these two tattoos please," said Harry as he looked at the tattoo artist.

"Al'ight sonny, wher' dah yeh wan' em? An' in wha' colour?" asked Patrick as he prepped the needles and Remus looked at Harry after he finished reading the tattoo's history.

"I would like the Eye of Horus on my right shoulder and the Omkar on my left," said Harry, "Oh and can I have them in dark green please?"

"Are you certain about this Harry," asked Remus with trepidation.

"Most positive, Moony," said Harry as Patrick began to etch the outline of the Eye of Horus in his right shoulder.

The next one and half hours were some of the most painful ones Harry had ever spent. It didn't equal the pain of his scar after Voldemort possessed him, but it did hurt because it was a continuous drawn out pain as the tattoos were engraved into his skin.

Harry and Remus left the tattoo parlour after paying Patrick. Harry made a promise to himself that he would come back later on to see if any other designs chose him. _For all I know, this could be the power I need_, Harry thought as he walked with Remus to the store with the windows obstructed with bamboo.

"What is this place, Remus?" asked Harry as he was rubbing the spots on his shoulders where his tattoos were placed,_ funny how the goblin tattoo was faster and not as irritating, good thing they do have spells on them so I don't have to cover them with bandages first_, thought Harry.

"This Harry, is a martial arts studio," said Remus as he opened the door for Harry to enter.

"Remus, they have these in the muggle world too you know," said Harry.

"Yas, but do de muggles have magical abilities combined with patience and inner strength?" asked the wind.

"Who said that?" asked Harry as he turned around looking for the person the voice belonged to.

"I did Master Harry," said five feet five inch tall aged Asian man with a bald head and goatee hanging at about two feet in length.

He was dressed in a plane dark grey Shaolin Monk Suit, but the most impressive thing Harry saw about him was that fact that his dark grey sandaled feet never seemed to touch the ground, but instead hovered almost a centimeter above it.

"Is this the one you speak of so fondly of, Lang?" asked the Asian man.

Harry looked at Remus, "Lang?"

"Yas," replied the Asian man again, "It is a shorten version of Lang Ren."

"What does that mean," asked a bewildered Harry.

"Lang means wolf in English, and Ren means man."

"Harry, its okay for him to call me Lang," said Remus, "Sun Gao means it respectfully."

"Sun Gao, I think I remember that name," said Harry as he was looking at the aged man before him.

"By right you should," said Remus, "I only reminded you yesterday to read his book."

That cleared up everything thing for Harry,_ no wonder why Remus asked me to read that book._

"Mr. Sun Gao, I was wondering, are you going to be this years Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

"How very perceptive of you Chwen," replied Sun Gao, "but please, only call me Sun Gao until the school year starts."

"Okay, sir," said Harry, "But what does Chwen mean?"

"When you find out," replied Sun Gao as his voiced started to transform into the wind like sound Harry heard before, "You will be ready to start your training with me. I bid you good afternoon Lang and Chwen."

With that a mist fell before the eyes of Remus and Harry.

When it cleared, Sun Gao was no longer there. Harry looked up at Remus as if expecting and explanation.

"Are you interested to read the book, now?" asked Remus, to which Harry just nodded dumbly, "Let's go get something to eat."

With that both men returned the street and walked their way through the crowds to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch.

"Hello again, Tom," greeted Remus, "Is that private room ready for us?"

"Most certainly, Mr. Lupin," said the barkeeper as he lead Harry and Remus to the back private parlour.

"Tom, is they're any way for someone to listen in?" asked Remus.

"Not unless they're more powerful than Professor Dumbledore," replied Tom with a smirk, "So what can I get you two?"

"I'll have a turkey sandwich with lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise with some crisps on the side please," ordered Remus, "What about you Harry?"

"I'll have the same."

"Right away, sirs," said Tom as he walked out of the parlour to place the orders.

"Okay, Harry. Spill it," said Remus as he looked at Harry, "Tell me what happened in Gringotts this morning."

"Remus, did you know I got a reward for my original defeat of Voldemort?" posed Harry.

"No, I did wonder what they did about Crouches' bounty though," confessed Remus.

"Well, it seems that I did get that payment after all," after Harry said this Remus choked in mid gasp, "But I also did some other things to retain it."

"What do you mean Harry?" demanded Remus, "Please tell me it wasn't illegal."

"No, no, no. Nothing like that, its more good I believe," stated Harry just as Tom walked in the room with their food and a round of butterbeer.

"Thank you," they both said as Tom left again to go tend the bar.

"Please explain, Harry," prompted Remus.

"In 1981, after I disembodied Voldemort, the Ministry setup an account under shared names in Gringotts. This vault contained one million galleons." Remus spit out his butterbeer, which soaked Harry's face, who started to wipe his face clean, "Thanks, Remus!"

"Sorry," replied Remus giving Harry another napkin to use, "But one million galleons! Harry that's a big fortune."

"Remus, there's more," were the three words that made the werewolf shut up. "The goblins set it at a five percent interest rate that was compounded continuously because I stopped the monster that killed the first goblin family since one of the rebellions. Remus, that money was untouched for fifteen years and just gained interest, the vault I left today held slightly over two million galleons."

"Merlin's beard!" gasped Remus.

"But the best part Remus," said Harry to his shocked mentor, "Is that I prevented the money from being circulated into the Ministry where it would have gone to the corrupt departments being taken over by Death Eaters and Death Eater sympathizers."

"Harry, I want you to write down everything you can when we get home so I can give it to Dumbledore at tomorrow's meeting," stated Remus.

"Remus, what can Dumbledore do?" asked Harry, "It's already been done."

"Still Harry, I would rather he knew about it."

"Fine, you got it Remus," was Harry's only response as he tucked into his sandwich.

The two of them soon finished and made their way over to Madame Malkin's to take a look at her new line of muggle day clothing. Even though muggle and muggle-born influence has been seeping into certain parts of wizarding life, clothing had yet to change. Harry was happy to be able to buy everyday clothing, and the charms on them made them last longer so it was an extra bonus; in the wizarding world because he could get rightly confused in the muggle world since he had only shopped in it once. _I should get out and explore some of muggle London a while later on._ On that thought, Harry and Remus entered Madame Malkin's.

"One of you go with Sophie and the other with Abigail please," said a frazzled Madame Malkin, who was carrying so many clothes that she looked like a pile ready to be placed in the wash.

Harry and Remus just looked at each other for a second before a girl pulled Harry away while another girl pulled Remus away.

"I'll see you some time later today!" Harry shouted as the girl pulled him into the corner dressing room.

" 'Lo there, I'm Sophie Speller and I'll be helping you with your clothes today," said a cute witch with long, straight blonde hair that was wearing baby blue robes that matched great against her tan complexion.

"Hello Sophie, how good are you at keeping secrets?" asked Harry as he blocked his scar with his hand pretending to hold his hand in his hair.

"Pretty good," answered Sophie, "Why do you ask?"

"That's good," Harry, said as he dropped his hand to shake hers, "I'm Harry Potter, and it's nice to meet you."

Good thing Harry was a seeker in qudditch, or else he wouldn't have had fast enough reflexes to cover Sophie's mouth with his hand before she screamed his name to the store.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked taking his hand away.

Sophie took a few deep breaths as she was appraising Harry.

"Yes, thank you for stopping me. I'm sorry," she said and dropped her head thinking that she probably just made Harry throw a wobbly.

Harry placed his hand on her chin and lifted it up.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just happy I have fast hands," he finished with a smile.

Sophie smiled back, not because without knowing it, Harry was flirting with her, but because even after all this young wizard had been through, he was a kind and caring person.

"What can I get for you today Mr. Potter," she asked with a smile returning to her face.

"I was wondering if you could show me the new line of charmed muggle clothes, please?" he asked, "Please, call me Harry; you can't be more than three years older then me, Sophie."

She then took out a tape measure and tapped it with her wand. It unfurled and started to take Harry's measurements. It measured Harry's height, chest width, arm length, waist size, and leg length. Sophie was taken aback when it came to his inseam measurement, though Harry didn't understand how someone could be so wide-eyed after a measurement.

"Are there any particular kinds you would like?" said Sophie as she shook her head to get herself out of a daze.

"I just want around fifteen shirts, two pairs of jeans, three pairs of cargos and two khakis," he replied looking at her, "I trust your judgment on colours and types. Just one request please, no pink."

"I'll be right back Harry," said Sophie as she walked away to the clothing rack.

Harry stepped into the dressing room and removed his shirt to see his tattoos. Harry was flexing his muscle to see if the tattoos moved when Sophie came back with an arm full of muggle clothing; the only difference was that these all had certain charms placed on them.

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry," said Sophie as she turned around blushing profusely and covered her eyes.

"It's alright," replied Harry as he put his shirt on with smile, "I'm decent now."

Sophie turned around, still blushing, and showed Harry the tan, olive green and navy blue cargos she picked out for him.

"For all of them, the pockets are charmed to be three times bigger on the inside then they appear on the outside. They also have feather light charms so that if you were carrying something that was seven stone it would feel like nothing in your pocket, however, once it leaves the pocket it will weight seven stone."

"That's good to know," replied Harry as he examined the pockets, "But I don't really plan on carrying anything that weighs seven stone."

Sophie then went on to detail the other charms, such as the non-wear, non-fade, anti-winkle charms, of which Harry cared little about. Harry was happy when she mentioned that all the cargos and khakis could be converted into shorts just by putting your hand in the side pockets and saying the password: summer. _That will be useful when I go to that Bahamian Island in August_, thought Harry. He also liked when Sophie mentioned that the jeans, all of which were blue, would be able to withstand small jinxes, curses and blunt force because of their durability-charm. The shirts were pretty ordinary. The only charms on them were the anti-winkle, anti-dust, non-wear and non-fade charms. Harry thought it was a good selection.

"Harry I was…um…wondering if I could interest you in…" began Sophie stammering and blushing when she saw those emerald eyes look into hers. _Bollocks _was all Sophie could think, _how could I think about asking out the Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived!_ She mentally rebuked herself, "In…in …some…ah…a jacket?" She offered lamely.

Harry didn't understand why he felt there was more to what she was asking, _but a jacket would be nice_, "Sure, what kinds are there?"

"I'm assuming you want them to look muggle," Sophie said and Harry just nodded. "Then we have black leather, brown leather and denim."

Harry, not having a clue as to which one he would like more, decided to buy all three. He did, after all, have enough money too. Harry went up to the counter and paid the two hundred galleons for his purchases. Wearing his navy blue cargos, Harry put his purchases into the two enlarged pockets. Bidding a good day to Sophie, Harry went to go find Remus outside waiting for him.

Remus was waiting patiently outside the store for Harry. When said teen approached, Remus put him in a headlock and ground his knuckles into the Harry's scalp.

"Ow!" said Harry as he got out of the headlock and rubbed his head, "Moony, that bloody hurt!"

"That's the idea!" said Remus as he ruffled Harry's hair with his hand and with a laugh, "Every single day you seem to be more like Sirius and James combined."

Harry couldn't help but think about what he saw in Snape's pensive. He also remembered what everyone else told him about his father. Harry just reminded himself that no one was perfect, not even Dumbledore. Everyone was fallible.

Harry and Remus made their way back to the house looking in all of the windows of the stores. Since they had some time to kill before going back, Harry suggested that they could catch a movie. They both walked to the Empire, a supremely immense cinema boarding Leicester Square. They decided that comedy was going to be the genre of the day and settled on seeing The Eliminator.

Although Harry thought the movie was funny, it was only in a stupid sort of way. _Honestly, who would come up with a movie with car chases, zombies and the resurrection of St. Patrick!_ Harry really felt he had_ dropped twenty points off his I.Q._ by sitting through such a brainless display. It only took a look at Remus's face to realize he felt pretty much the same way. Before long, Remus turned to see Harry, and they both stared at each other for a brief second before laughing their heads off.

"That movie was the most horrible thing I have ever seen!" they both said in unison and started to laugh some more.

"You're telling me?" said Remus, "I remember once when your dad took me to see Satan's School for Girls. _That _was bad. But the movie we just saw was bloody atrocious."

They both continued laughing till they had finally returned to their London flat. They said their good nights and went off to their respective rooms to put away their purchases, clean up and go to sleep.

As Harry was starting to rest his head, he thought about what he did today. Today was something Harry needed. Considering how the school year ended and what his life was like at the Dursley's for ten years and five summers, this was just a mindless day of fun. He thought about all his purchases, the tattoos and the vault with over two million galleons in it, and how he might be spinning a new fate. Harry knew he wasn't a seer, but he liked to muse about the outcomes of today's actions, because Harry also knew from his past history, good things never last.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you verry much for reading. The third chapter should be out shortly. Some high lights from the third chapter: We get to see some of the new tricks Harry will learn, A vision through Voldemort's eyes, and of course a night out in London for a very special reason. 


	3. And Many More

**Disclaimer**:I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or any other texts assotiated with J.K. Rowling. All characters, except for the ones I create from my own dillusional mind, are hers and hers alone. If I have done any injustice to the series at all, please let me know. 

Nita, you are the greatest! Three Cheers for Nita! Hip Hip Hizzah! Hip Hip Hizzah! Hip Hip Hizzah!

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince 

By forfie

Chapter 3.) And Many More

Harry woke up at his usual time on July 30th and began his morning routine of exercises with his traditional run. Since the roof was only 110 meters in length, he tried to sprint around it ten times to build up his speed. A month prior to coming to the Dog House, he was jogging to increase his stamina; now he was working on increasing his speed. Harry left the roof feeling tired from the change in his exercise, but he determinedly went to work on the bench press to strengthen his shoulders, flexors, and abductors. One of the things he had learned from Dudley over the summer was that there were two different ways to work muscles. One would make him bulky and powerful, and the other would make him an Olympian that was proficient in many areas of strength. Harry chose to be an Olympian.  
As he finished his last rep and put the weights down, Remus came into the room. Harry looked up to see Moony dressed in a light blue Shaolin Monk Suit. Harry raised his eyebrow as he sat up rubbing his shoulders.

"Follow me to the roof," was all Remus said as he led the way up.

Harry just shrugged and followed Remus to the top. "Moony, what are you going to show me?"

"You'll see," was the only response Remus gave as they made their way onto the roof with the sun spreading its fingers into the early morning sky.

Remus then sat down cross-legged on the Astroturf facing the rising sun. Harry just watched and waited for several minutes until the werewolf stood up from his sitting position and approached Harry.

"Harry, I want you to try and punch me," Harry visibly blanched when he heard the unexpected request.

"Moony," started Harry, "I can't. You're a friend to me. I just can't do that."

"Don't worry Harry," replied Remus with a smile. "I doubt you could touch me."

That struck Harry as somewhat odd. Moony was hardly the cocky type, yet here he was, assuring Harry that he had no fear of him actually making contact.

"Fine, but if you get hurt, don't blame me," replied Harry as he fell into a boxing stance.

"Like wise Chwen," replied Moony, using the name given to Harry by Sun Gao. "Please don't hold back," and with that Remus remained in an open stance position as the wind blew across his light blue Shaolin Monk garb.

Harry threw ¾ of his strength into the punch, and all he hit was air. _Huh? _Thought Harry.

"Again," called Remus.

Harry tried yet again to punch Remus, this time with all his strength. Just as Harry thought the hit was going to connect with the man's shoulder, Harry felt a breeze and then the twisting of his arm. His knees buckled and he went down to the ground with only one thought going through his mind, _Bloody Hell!_ Moving quickly, Harry tried to grab Remus from behind, but his hand was stopped and placed on the back of his head. Remus then pushed Harry's chin into his chest using Harry's own hand.

"I give!" yelled a defeated Harry as Remus let him up. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"That was Mo Fa Shoou Dau," answered Remus, "If you want to know more, read the book! Maybe now you are interested," finished Remus as he headed back down stairs.

"Moony," asked Harry, "Can you show me some more of this Mo Flu Shak-whats-it?"

"Harry," said Remus as he was walking down the stairs, "I only showed it to you so you would become interested in the book. What I know about Mo Fa Shoou Dau is trivial compared to Sun Gao."

_When will he shut up about that book?_ Thought Harry as he joined Remus downstairs. _I will definitely have to read that book now._ By the time Harry reached the landing, Remus was leaving his bedroom after changing into pants and a polo shirt.

"Where are you going Moony?" Harry added with a laugh, "A hot date? Did you fall for the girl that measured you for robes?"

"Actually, no, though I do wish it was a date," replied Remus. "But truth be told, it's an Order meeting. A very important one I take it, and will probably take up the rest of my day."

Harry was naturally curious about the meeting, but from past experience, he knew it was pointless to even ask, so he just continued to good naturedly kid Remus. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, but if you want, I could ask that girl out for you."

Remus just laughed, ruffled Harry's hair and walked out the door. Harry started to walk to his bedroom and wash up when the door opened again. Remus popped his head in.

"Read that book!" and then he closed the door and left.

_Jeez, if Moony's anything he sure is persistent_ thought Harry as he went to take a shower, dress and start reading _The Art of Dueling_ by his soon to be Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. Lying down on one of the couches, Harry started reading the book that seemed to be made up of statements of advice rather than a true book. It was all connected yet in a circuitous fashion.

For example:

"One who excels in warfare is able to make himself unconquerable, but cannot necessarily cause the enemy to be conquerable." 1

"In order await the disordered; in tranquility await the clamorous. This is the way to control the mind." 2

"If an enemy in close proximity remains quiet, they are relying on their tactical occupation of ravines. If while far off they challenge you to battle, they want you to advance because they occupy easy terrain to their advantage." 3

"When you mobilize the army and form strategic plans, you must be unfathomable." 4

"If the enemy opens the door, you must race in." 5 

To say Harry took the words to heart would be an understatement. This book was exactly what he needed to know; it gave basic ideas and concepts of individual and group fighting. As of that moment, Harry was only interested in the individual fighting. He knew his friends, especially the ones that followed him to the Ministry, would want to fight along side him. Harry didn't want his friends hurt or killed because they chose to stand by him, but he conceded to the fact that nothing he could do would dissuade them. His only hope would be for them to train.

Harry walked back into his room to get some parchment, quill and some ink and sat down to write Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna.

Dear Ron and Ginny,

How are you two doing? I'm doing really well because two days ago I moved to live with Moony for a month. I don't really know what I'm doing the week before school, but I have a fairly good idea I want to run by Dumbledore.

Yesterday, Moony and I went to Diagon Alley. We got some of Madam Malkin's new muggle clothes line and I met our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Trust me, this year we will actually learn something; however, I do plan on keeping the D.A. running.

Speaking of which, I was wondering if both of you would want to spend a day in muggle London. I'm sure they would allow us to if we had a proper guard. I plan on asking Hermione, Neville and Luna, too.

It's really good to be here and get a change of scenery. As I said before, the Dursleys weren't that bad this summer. My cousin actually surprised me by inviting me to a party. I had a really good time and some one taught me how to dance.

Now it's time to get to the real point of this letter, sorry for dragging it out so long. I was reading a certain book, The Art of Dueling by Sun Gao, which I highly recommend, and I have a request. I know it's the summer hols and all, but would you guys please consider spending some time training with me? I mean more than just the studying of spells that we might use one day, those are important too, but I'm referring to physical training. I can talk to you about it later, but I just implore you to do this; it would be very rewarding both mentally and physical. It should also help us to build our self-confidence.

Talk to you soon, hopefully,

Harry

Almost all of the other letters were identical except he asked Hermione to do some research on the Bahamian wizarding communities and he tried to emphasize the importance of confidence building exercise to Neville. Harry was making a few plans about some of the things he would like to try to do and obtain this year. Some of it was going to have to be real cloak and dagger, while the other plans were to raise morale and public opinion of the wizarding world.

Harry didn't want to become like Dumbledore. He hated Dumbledore for some of the decisions the man had made. What Harry hated the most was the fact that he couldn't hate Dumbledore for his good intentions. Everyone was fallible, even the aged headmaster.

Harry sighed as he tied the letters to Hedwig, his faithful snowy-white owl, as she nipped his earlobe in affection and then flew out the window he opened for her. He went back to the couch and started to read _The Art of Dueling_ again. Harry was breezing through it, comprehending everything he read because he could visualize the concepts of the text.

Harry began a passage on the use of a second wand in combat situations. _With a second wand comes more time, yet less power_, Harry read to himself as he finished one passage and moved on to the next. _Thus the better warrior with two wands must use precise timing to see victory. The more amateur fighter should use each wand intermittently so that the fighter's power is not separated but can act two positions faster. _The two wand fighting style intrigued Harry because he had never really seen it done. He thought it would be easier to fight with two wands considering you could cast defensively with one and offensively with the other.

His reading continued as he was engrossed within the book. _Whispering your spells is detrimental, however to talk softly does not mean act passively. Ch'u showed no mercy to those it conquered to become a dynasty. Speak softly, yet think loudly._

_That was how the Order fought the Death Eaters in the Department of Mystery,_ Harry thought to himself. He wanted to try and learn how to perform spells like that. If Lestrange in the Hall of Prophecy had not shouted out the summoning charm, Harry would not have been able to protect the Prophecy. Then it hit Harry like a load of bricks, _the Death Eaters played down to us, sure they used advanced magic, but they didn't need to shout all of their curses_. Harry was now doubly happy he asked his friends to train. Harry then went back to his reading.

It was around three o'clock in the afternoon when Harry was almost done with the book. He was turning to the last page when a piece of parchment fell out of the back of the book. Harry stared between the book and the letter for awhile before he plucked up the courage and opened the letter.

Dear Harry, began the untidy scrawl of a person's hand writing Harry had never seen before.

If you are reading this, then I must assume you have almost come to the end of the book. I will ask you to stop at this point so that we can meet in person for your training. I see it as being highly beneficial for you, as does your Headmaster.

After you finish reading this you should visit me at Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio to the right of Patrick's Prick Parlour. Your training shall be in the ancient art of Mo Fa Shoou Dau. It's exact translation is open hand magical way. Essentially it is a combination between what is commonly known as Karate with Magical dueling. It will also incorporate some emotional magic, which I am informed you are proficient at based on learning the Patronus Charm at a young age.

This is not just a special course for you; there will be others later on. It was just brought to my attention that you might want to learn it early. There are only two rules you should be fully aware of. One is that you are never to attack anyone out of class to show off your power, it is only to be used in defense of yourself or others. The other is that I shall refer to you in a name I selected for you based on what I have heard of you. You can chose to hate the name, live with it or exemplify it. Your name to me is Chwen because of your pureness.

I hope to see you soon. If not, I hope you have had a good summer.

Sun Gao 

_This is what Remus meant!_ Thought Harry. _Why didn't he just say to read the letter in the back of the book? Sure it was a good read, but still, this is a good offer. _Harry bit his lip and asked himself if he really wanted to do this. It would most likely mean not going to the Bahamian Island and he was looking forward to that.

_Sun Gao did mention something about Dumbledore,_ thought Harry as he started to put two and two together. _Dumbledore set this training up for me. It would have been appreciated before, but I have to make sure to talk to him. There are some other things I need to set up as well. _

To help Harry clear his mind, he turned on the telly so that he could zone out. To Harry the telly was only good for two things. One was emptying his mind and the other was to pick up some news of the outside world.

As Harry was watching the telly he began to get drowsy and slouched more and more into the comfort of the couch. It was 30°C outside and about 35°C inside with the windows open. It was so soothing and relaxing, it would be hard for anyone to stay awake. Harry, giving in to his comfort and tiredness, drifted off to sleep on the couch in front of the telly on this nice, warm, peaceful day.

_Harry was standing in front a swarm of black robed wizards. Beyond the black robed wizards was a sea of grey, green and brown robes that seemed to all be in different stages of decay. How the clothing could remain on the people boggled him, but that was not the point of why he was standing in front of every one. Satisfaction and joy were the feelings of this day. _

"_Friends!" he yelled out to the crowd, "Today is a day of history!"_

_At that everyone went wild and cheered. Flaming debris was thrown up into the air and rained down like hellish confetti. _

"_Today we have done something that no one since this building's conception has ever done," with that, Harry beckoned several people up top with him. _

"_I came here today with one goal," he shouted as he pointed one thin skeletal finger into the air, "And from that one goal I have gained so much."_

_Again the cheering and confetti throwing continued till the crowd had to be subdued by the others in black robes. _

"_I came here today to free these nine servants of mine," said Harry as he swept his hand to the nine people to the right, "Because they were loyal to me, as all of you will be!"_

_Again the crowd cheered louder and louder only to be subdued by the dark robed wizards. _

"_These nine were once part of my thirteen Lieutenants during the first reign," Harry now knew that he was seeing through Voldemort's eyes. He had to keep watching to get as much information as possible, "However, because of today's success, it seems fitting that the other four spots be filled." _

_Harry wondered who the previous four could be._

"_One of the spots shall return to Bellatrix Lestrange for her consistent loyalty to me. The second spot shall go to my greatest spy against Dumbledore, that mud-blood loving fool, Severus Snape. The third spot shall go to the servant that has sacrificed a hand for me so that I could be here on this glorious day, my third Lieutenant shall be Peter Pettigrew. The fourth spot is being presented to the person that has just turned to me in the past year. He was the person that made today possible. My new Lieutenant in this righteous war of ours is Sturgis Podmore."_

_Harry remembered hearing about a Sturgis Podmore before, he couldn't place where, but he knew he knew the name. _

"_Now is our time!" said Voldemort, "I would like you all to get your new wands from Nikolai Gregorovitch. Welcome prisoners of Azkaban, my new Death Eaters."_

Harry woke up startled from his vision with a slight twinge of pain in his scar. _Voldemort has taken over Azkaban. I have to tell Dumbledore, but how?_ Harry looked around frantically. He couldn't use Hedwig because she was out delivering letters to his friends, also something this important should never travel by owl, no matter how reliable Hedwig was.

Harry then looked to his right, _the floo!_ Realizing that the fireplace was only connected to Dumbledore's office, he went to it. There was only one problem, _where is the floo powder?_ Remus had not told Harry where the floo powder was in case he needed to make a call to Dumbledore. Granted it was only his second full day there, but some things were important.

Harry rummaged around the house looking for some floo powder. When he thought all hope was lost, Harry looked at the humidor sitting on the side table next to the winged chairs in from of the fireplace. He opened it up to find the green sand that was floo powder and threw it into to the fire place as he yelled out "Headmaster Dumbledore's Office" and felt his neck stretch and twist till his head popped out of a fireplace in Dumbledore's office.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry screamed because he couldn't see where he was. Harry was becoming anxious in his wait for Dumbledore and yelled some more and louder.

"I'm here Harry," said the aged wizard called as he walked to the hearth, "I apologize for not being here when you first called, but it was such a lovely day I thought it would be quite pleasant to take a swim in the Great Lake. Thankfully Fawkes came to get me. How may I help you?" asked Dumbledore as he tied up his bathrobe better to cover his bathing suite.

"Sir, I had another vision," was all Harry could get out before Dumbledore beckoned him to come into his office.

"How sir?" Harry questioned with a confused look on his face.

"Just slide in my boy," replied Dumbledore, "Or you could give me your hand."

Harry was able to get his arm to the Headmaster who grasped and pulled him through with surprising strength. Harry started to pat the dust off of himself till Dumbledore took out his wand and preformed a cleaning charm on the soot covered teen.

"Please Harry, take a seat," Dumbledore pointed to a chair in front of his desk.

Harry sat down and looked around the office. The last time Harry was in this office he had trashed it royally. He was a bit surprised to see that all the objects were replaced. The portraits of old Headmasters and Headmistresses that lined Dumbledore's office were awake to see what Harry was doing there. They didn't fake sleeping around him anymore since he'd trashed the place.

"So what brings you to me Harry?" asked Dumbledore as he offered a pan of lemon drops to the pupil.

"No thank you, sir," said Harry as he put his hand up, "I had another vision, Professor."

"Please call me Albus," replied Dumbledore.

"Sir, I would rather refer to you by your proper title because, at this time, I am still trying to discern what my relationship with you is," said Harry as noncommittally as he could.

Dumbledore looked sadden at this statement because he had always held a certain grandfatherly love for the boy. To hear him say that really put a fracture in his old heart. But it was his own doing thought Harry, _if he was only honest with me_.

"Please tell me this vision Harry," said Dumbledore then leaned back and placed his fingers together.

Harry then recounted his vision in its entirety to Dumbledore, telling him every single detail he could remember. He saw Dumbledore's face falter twice. The first time was when he mentioned Sturgis Podmore, and the second time was when he mentioned Gregorovitch.

"Sir, who were the previous four Lieutenants that Voldemort lost?" asked Harry to the old wizard.

"Bellatrix Lestrange was one, and it seems that he is just reaffirming her position, so Voldemort only needed to replace three of his Lieutenants. From the fight in the Department of Mystery last month, Nicholas Nott was found comatose because a shelf full of prophecies fell on him. Not only was his back and several ribs broken, around fifty-seven prophecies fell on him. Do you remember what happened to a Mr. Broderick Bode last year when he touched one prophecy that didn't belong to him?" Harry nodded with realization. "One of the former Lieutenants was a Mr. Evan Rosier. You might remember from my pensive, but Mr. Rosier was killed shortly after he took a part of Alastor's nose. The other two I'm afraid I can not tell you Harry."

Harry just huffed and sat in his seat till he said with out think, "Keeping more secrets from me Dumbledore?"

Harry was instantly sorry because of the hurt look on Dumbledore's face. _Me and my big mouth_, he thought.

"No, Harry," was what the aged wizard said, "I can't tell you because I do not know for certain. However, the one I feel that was once a Lieutenant would be Mr. Igor Karkaroff. That is just speculation though, with no proof."

Harry just brushed it off and asked the most important question, "Sir, why aren't you upset that Voldemort took Azkaban?"

"It was going to happen Harry, it was just a matter of when. We would have been able to stop it earlier, perhaps, but since Voldemort was only recognized last month, we didn't have the support we needed to prevent it. Tie that in with a group of Aurors that have not seen war in over ten years; it would have been nigh impossible to have stopped it," explained Dumbledore. "However, some good did come of it…"

Dumbledore was about to explain the good points when he was interrupted by Harry, "How many Aurors were guarding the prison?"

"Twenty Aurors, not including Mr. Podmore, and twenty- four Magical Law Enforcers," answered Dumbledore, "Why do you ask Harry?"

"I ask because your good came from their lives," answered Harry, "To me nothing good could have come from the loss of forty-four lives."

"Harry, please look at it in a different way," pleaded the Headmaster.

"Which way Dumbledore? I see forty-four people that could be alive right now fighting to win this war, but they're not. Tell me where the good is," demanded Harry as he became a little heated.

"Severus is now a Lieutenant, therefore he is privy to more information. A traitor in the Aurors and Order was discovered. And we know who is supplying wands to Voldemort's army," replied Dumbledore.

_Damn, _thought Harry,_ he is right_!

"Okay, Dumbledore, I see what you mean," said Harry. "But you know how I feel about manipulating people." Dumbledore nodded with a hurt look of understanding in his face, "That's why I have to ask you something, also."

"Please Harry ask away," said Dumbledore looking slightly happy because he hoped it would mend the gap between them.

"As you know, I'm spending the month with Professor Lupin," the headmaster just nodded, "The month, that is, before his next transformation, which means I would have to leave him on the twenty-third of August. I was wondering if you could set it up so I could spend that week in the Bahamian house that Sirius left me."

Dumbledore just looked at the soon to be sixteen year old and knew he could and would allow him to go in light of all that had transpired between them, but what Harry had asked would mean that he would miss some of the early training he had set up for him.

"Harry I had some plans…" but the Headmaster wasn't able to finish, since Harry interrupted him.

"I know sir, I read the letter that fell out of _The Art of Dueling_. Personally I would have been thrilled to train magically, but I doubt the Ministry would have allowed it." Now it was Harry's turn to be interrupted.

"Harry, they have already approved you," replied the headmaster, "You will be able to do magic after your sixteenth birthday."

"Sir, why would they approve me on something that I was supposed to be expelled for last summer?" posed a curious Harry.

"The Ministry seems to want to please you and me after the smear campaign they had waged against us for the last year," replied Dumbledore.

"I also might add that, along those lines, when the Minister went to check your reward vault yesterday to find it out of his control, he was less than pleased, but seeing as what he did to you last year, he 'let it go' as payment for your cooperation."

"That bloody blither!" cursed an enraged Harry, "I prevented that money from fueling a corrupt government! How can someone be so blind?"

"Harry, I feel that Cornelius might not be Minister of Magic for much longer," Harry looked slightly elated. "However, it is my fear that another person might be elected that is more easily swayed to the power Voldemort offers."

"I understand, sir," not really comprehending but wanting to move on to another subject. "So will I be able to go to my house on the island?"

"Harry, I want to say, yes," began Dumbledore hesitantly, but he faltered under Harry's gaze. "I will arrange for you to go, but I want you to start your training with Sun Gao at most three days after your birthday. As I told you before, you will be able to perform magic a year earlier, so you would be able to defend yourself if need be. I would rather it not come down to that, Harry. Would you mind a guard?"

"Oh, I actually get a choice this time?" Dumbledore just nodded. "I would prefer not to have one, but you would probably send one anyway. Who currently isn't doing any Order or regular work?"

"I believe there are four people," started Dumbledore, "Remus Lupin is not working for us as of right now, but he would be incapacitated for a few days at least. Kingsley Shakelbolt is on leave for recovery from a battle he staged…"

"What do you mean, Professor?" asked Harry.

"Harry, no one told you?" Harry just shook his head at Dumbledore's question. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the only way we could get the recognition of Sirius's will was to stage a duel in which his body could never be recovered. Kingsley set it in Africa and claimed that Sirius's body was lost in a mudslide. The Ministry thought it to be fact because Kingsley is quite powerful and thought to be highly trustworthy. The Ministry then approved the last will Sirius sent to his executor."

"So his name is not cleared," said Harry glumly. I_t doesn't really matter as long as I get Pettigrew and Lestrange, _he thought bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Harry," replied Dumbledore with his eyes betraying his true age.

"It's okay, Sir, but who are the others?"

"Another would be Alastor Moody," Harry winced as he tried to imagine the grizzled, scarred, peg legged, retired Auror with the huge magical eyeball, sunbathing on a Bahamian beach. He shivered at the prospect. "I take that as a no. The last choice is Nymphadora Tonks."

_Tonks,_ thought Harry, _She'd be perfect! She wouldn't constantly be watching me. Not to mention she is fairly good looking, wonder what she looks like in a bathing suit?_ Where did that come from Harry asked himself.

"Professor, I think Tonks would be perfect. Not to mention she is some what close to my own age and would be able to be around me and not draw attention," Harry finished hoping that he bought it.

"Then it is decided, Harry. Nymphadora shall be your guard, and I believe she would like the change in scenery," Dumbledore finished with a little smile. "The next question is how you would get there unnoticed?"

"Sir, taking a portkey from your office with Tonks to the place in question," stated Harry, "Would be the simplest solution."

"Alas, Harry, I can not allow that because I have people in my office that are not deserving of much trust as of late. Also, portkeys are easy to track. However, a portkey from Remus's flat would be more than adequate, seeing as Remus won't be there and neither would you. You two are the only ones that could access the house, so no one would be able to get the portkey signature."

"That seems reasonable, Sir," stated Harry as he got up to leave. "I believe everything is simple enough to plan for it, so I think I might take my leave." With that Harry got up to go to the fireplace.

"Harry, since you're here, why not choose your courses for next year?" asked Dumbledore as he produced a list from his drawer. T_he old codger probably planned this_, thought Harry.

"Sir, I haven't even checked the list yet," said Harry.

"Well, I dare say that you have some fine courses to choose from. Let's see, I do believe I keep all the transcripts in of these drawers," said Dumbledore as he opened up random drawers in his oak desk. "Ah, yes. Harry James Potter's transcript, please," he asked the drawer, and all of a sudden the file jumped into the air and Dumbledore caught it like it was common practice. "Let's see here, yes.

"Harry, you should be quite pleased with your grades, especially considering all that you went through last year."

Harry just snorted and half mumbled, "No thanks to you."

Dumbledore didn't seem to hear him, or if he did he just let it roll off his shoulders, "I see here that you will not be able to continue Divination or History Magic," stated Dumbledore.

"Good riddance," was Harry's only response.

"Harry, I might agree that I don't believe Divination to be important, but History of Magic is fairly important. Without an Acceptable or above in it, you can not go on to take Magical Law," stated Dumbledore. "Then again, you do have that lovely book I gave you, so I dare say you might not need the class.

He continued, "I believe I can get you into Potions even though Professor Snape demands at least one Outstanding in either the Theory or Practical. Considering you want to be an Auror…" but the headmaster was interrupted.

"Sir, I don't want to be an Auror anymore. I chose that job on a whim last year. I would rather do something that would bring me tons of joy after this war. Not to mention I could fight without being an Auror," stated Harry with his honest thought. "I'd rather not take Potions any more, Sir."

"Are you positive, Harry?" Dumbledore asked curiously, and the black haired teen just nodded his head. "Very well, but because of your decision, you are no longer applicable to take Healing because you need to take Potions and Healing simultaneously. As you have been told Harry, your decisions now will determine the rest of your life.

"Would you like to take Astronomy?"

"No, sir, I was never that good at stargazing," Dumbledore just gave a grim smile at his pupil's judgment.

"Very well, then is it safe to sign you up for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Yes, sir, I would like to take those," stated Harry, "What do the other classes entail?"

"Intelligent and Sentient Beings is taught by Algernon Beamish, the son of Oswald Beamish, who was a pioneer for goblin rights. It will entail the research of many magical beings, including customs and languages. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't come away from the class without being able to understand at least two other magical, non wizard or witch, beings.

"Creation is taught by Gladys Boothby and is assisted by David Gudgeon. Creation is a class in which you will learn how to create certain magical items. So far all of the classes you are taking will help you with it. I think you might enjoy the class."

"I'll take those two, Sir," said Harry, "I'm glad that is all settled. Thank you professor, I believe I should be heading back to the flat," started Harry as he began to get up to use the fireplace.

"Harry, I was wondering if you would keep that fantastic group of yours going this year?" asked Dumbledore. "I dare say I will give it an official sanction, but that means it would have to be open to everyone and non-discriminatory."

"I plan to keep the D.A. going," voiced Harry about one of his many thought out subjects. "However, I do want to keep it secret, select and not having to be overridden by school rules. There are some people that I do not want in the group because I have a fair guess which side they lean to."

"I see, Harry," said Dumbledore as he searched his drawers again. "However, I would like you to include some students," he then pulled out a list and gave it to Harry. "Others in your group may object to these students, but if you were to persuade them, considering I hand selected them, it would be appreciated."

"Sir, I will think about it and ask my friends," said Harry as he folded up the list and put it in his pocket with out looking at the names and snidely added with his temper getting the best of him, "But I would also like you to remember that you 'hand selected' Peter Pettigrew for the first Order of the Phoenix."

Dumbledore looked defeated and let the subject drop before he moved onto his next request.

"I also ask for one more favor, Harry," Harry turned back to look at Dumbledore, _please don't say what I think your going to say_, thought Harry, "I would like you to start up Occlumency again." Harry's face fell, "I understand how you feel about Professor Snape, so I will not ask him to teach you. However, I would like to teach you myself."

"Sir, I would rather not," stated Harry. "This time was different; I don't think he knew I was there, not to mention I was able to control my stay in his mind to see through his eyes and didn't experience that much pain in my scar. I have to go, Professor," and with that Harry took a fist full of floo powder and threw it into the fire. He stepped in and said "Dog House," clearly and loudly. The last image Harry saw was of a heavily sighing Dumbledore.

Harry arrived in the flat and checked to see if Remus had returned yet. _That's odd,_ thought Harry,_ didn't Moony say there was an Order meeting? Surely Dumbledore, as the leader, wouldn't miss his own meeting. _Harry just brushed it off as Moony probably stopping for lunch or some other business he had. He would never think of Remus betraying him because Moony was as loyal as any Hufflepuff.

Harry checked the clock, _5 p.m._, he thought to himself as he went and sat down to watch the telly. _There isn't really anything to do considering I have finished that book; granted I still have Dumbledore's but that thing is ridiculous, m_used Harry as he flipped through the channels.

Harry restlessly got up from the couch and went into his room after not finding anything good to watch. He then remembered that he needed to check the course list to see what he would need to buy for next year's classes. He walked over to his trunk to where he had his old post buried under the remainder of Dudley's cast offs. Harry then took another piece of parchment so that he could write a list of what he would need.

He scanned the courses that he chose in his meeting with Dumbledore. _I think I made some good choices. _He then wrote everything he needed on the separate piece of parchment and read it back to himself:

_The Standard Book of Spells Grade 6 _by Miranda Goshawk 6

_Advanced Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch 7

_Magical Plants and Flowers of the World_ by Phyllida Spore 8

_The How To Book of How To_ by Charles Clamp

_Ministry Guide to Sentient Beings_ by Ministry Information Council

_Hairy Snout, Human Heart_ by Anonymous 9

_Truth: How the Ministry Treats Non-Pureblood-Wizards and Other Beings _

by Politik Muckraker

Harry already had the required reading done for Defense Against the Dark Arts. _That was a doubly useful thing considering I'm taking his class, now I don't have to read it during the year_, Harry thought to himself. Besides the books, Harry also marked down that he wanted to get some boots and a wand holster, among other things. The other thing being a second wand because he thought it might be useful, but he didn't want many people to know about it.

_Maybe some defense books also,_ Harry thought. _Remus can't possible say no on helping me with defense._ Thus Harry spent the next three hours sitting in his room, detailing all the things he wanted to buy later on. _It feels great to have some freedom_, contemplated Harry, _it reminds of when I spent two weeks of my third year in the Leaky Cauldron._

Harry then heard a creak and a rumble that he knew to be the lift. Just to be on the safe side, Harry grabbed his wand and went to see who it was. He was kneeling on the front couch using it to cover everything save his eyes and wand. Harry waited to see if it was really Moony.

The compartment doors opened. Moony stepped out as if everything was normal, and he didn't notice Harry till he jumped out and pointed his wand at the graying werewolf. Remus jumped back and immediately took out his wand, going on the defensive.

"What do I hear when Dementors approach?" asked Harry.

"You hear the last moments of James and Lily," answered Lupin as he lowered his wand, "Merlin, Harry. You almost gave me a bleeding heart attack."

Both shared a smile and said at the same time, "Mad-Eye would be proud," then they looked at each other and both fell down laughing.

Harry was clutching his sides trying to gain some composure, "So Moony, where were you really?"

"I told you Harry, Order meeting," replied Remus.

"Moony, your lying," stated Harry and saw the shocked look of amazement on his former professor's face, "I had an impromptu meeting with my dear _old_ Headmaster. I seriously doubt that there would be a meeting with out him. You might as well spill it," continued Harry as he started approaching Remus, "Because one way or another I will get the truth out of you."

Harry then tackled Remus like a rugby player onto the dark wood floor. The two were wrestling like old time friends would.

Harry pinned Remus to the wood and asked again, "Where did you go, Moony?"

"Fine!" conceded Lupin, "I give! Uncle!"

Harry let up on Moony, "Tell me! I've been stuck here all day, and I'm horribly bored."

Remus needed to make up a lie quickly or else all the plans for tomorrow were wrecked, "I…er…had…a…um…a date," _that's a good start_; Remus smirked to himself and shook his head.

"So who is she?" asked the interested teen. "It is a she right? It doesn't matter if you're that way, I just was wondering if I should refer to the person as she, he, it or whatever," he finished with a raised eye brow.

"_What?_ Yes, Harry, it was a woman," stated Remus. "What do you think she would be a poodle?"

"I dunno," said Harry nonchalantly, "For all I know that might be how you get your kicks."

"I can assure you it's not how I 'get my kicks'," said Remus as he had to think up some quick lying. _Who will I most likely never see again?_ _Ah ha!_ "It was actually that Abigail girl from Madam Malkin's…"

"You dog!" exclaimed Harry as he clamped Remus on the shoulder, "She is at most twenty-four years old, how did an old timer like you get her?"

"_Old timer_, I'll have you know young man that I am only thirty-seven!"

Harry just snorted; "Old!" and Remus glared at him before ruffling the teens raven black, messy hair.

"There's something that attracts women to a quite, withdrawn bookworm like myself," said Lupin. "I'll probably never see her again," he added for good measure.

"So, did you?" asked Harry with a suggestive wink

"Did I?" asked Remus to himself, "Did I? Did I what?" then realization finally hit the werewolf. "Oh," said Lupin as he began to blush, "A gentleman never tells," he used as a quick excuse.

"So, you didn't?"

"Not entirely," said Remus trying to make the lie believable.

"That's a no," said Harry as he went to the kitchen, "You hungry big bad wolf?"

"Yes, I could eat a horse," said Remus, "Or maybe the foal of a stag if he keeps asking me about women."

Harry got the hint.

Harry woke up on the 31st of July like any other day. The night before he had a quiet dinner with Moony, and they made plans later on to get some books and arrange the Mo Fa Shoou Dau lessons with Sun Gao. Harry started his usual work out session in the morning.

The first part was his sprint on the roof. Harry soon found himself happy that the roof was enclosed by a four foot concrete barrier. If it hadn't been enclosed he would have fallen to his death dozens of time by now. Harry then decided to take a bit of a break because his sprints really took it out of him.

He was sitting on the couch with his legs up watching the telly and sipping a glass of water when Remus came out of his room.

"Harry, I have got to go out for a second; I should be back in an hour," said Lupin as he looked at his wristwatch.

"Okay, Moony," said Harry as he aimlessly flipped through the channels, "Why can't there ever be anything good on!"

"It's too bad really, because I think it would be good to see a qudditch match like you would a football game," said Moony as he stepped into the lift, "See you soon, Harry."

"Bye, Moony," said Harry giving a back handed wave as he watched a cooking program, _boring!_

Harry clicked the telly off and went to go put on one of Dudley's castoffs. _It would be slightly better if it was a muscle shirt_, thought Harry, _I've got enough new clothing, let me go get the scissors_. Harry came back and cut off the sleeves of a baggy worn out white t-shirt and he put on a pair of his old shorts to begin the second part of his work out.

He walked into the exercise room making sure to take his wand with him. Harry smiled to himself, _I really shouldn't scare Moony again_, then he shook his head, _it's just so much fun_. He then put his feet under a cabinet in the room and began to do his hundred crunches and then fifty curl ups. Harry then moved on to push ups, pulls ups and then decided to do some hamstring lifts to improve the strength of his legs.

He was in the middle of his excises when he heard the lift coming back up. _Time to play my prank on Moony again_, thought Harry as he prepared himself behind the door. Then, he stopped and pressed his ear to the door.

"Where is he?" asked a female voice.

"I don't know," Remus replied.

"Let's check his room," suggested a male voice.

"I can't wait to give him our little present," said different female voice.

_Bloody Hell, _thought Harry, _Moony sold me out to the Death Eaters._

Harry then started preparing himself for a battle. As much as he could guess, there were probably four Death Eaters, including Remus. _It's good there are couches for cover,_ thought Harry.

"He's not in his room," said Remus, "The only other place I can think of is the exercise room."

_Bollocks_, thought Harry, _what was it that Sun Gao said in his book?_ Harry started to panic, as he waited for Moony to open the door. Harry looked down and saw the door knob start to turn, and then he remembered the passage in _The Art of Dueling_.

The second the door was started to open away from the teen, Harry rushed through the door and set up for battle as he dove behind a couch for cover.

But there was no yelling of spells, just the moaning pain of Moony. Wondering why the Death Eaters were not attacking the couch he dove behind, Harry poked his head up.

Harry's eyes went wide at the people he saw. Standing in front of him were his friends Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. There were also his dorm mates Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. Beyond them were Nymphadora Tonks, Fred and George Weasley. By the lift stood Mr. and Mrs. Weasley next to a very amused looking Professor Dumbledore. The only person not accounted for was Moony.

Tonks, who was sporting baby blue long straight hair today, ran over to the door of the exercise room. Closing the door revealed Moony who was crumpled on the floor.

"Moony," asked Harry, "I'm sorry. I let my imagination get away from me."

Harry then laughed to have everyone look at him oddly.

"Harry, dear, what's so funny?" asked a confused looking Mrs. Weasley.

"I'm sorry," started Harry, "But in my imagination I thought you were all Death Eaters, and all of you are the farthest thing from that lot."

Some of his friends laughed at it, but most still looked uneasy. Harry pocketed his wand and offered everyone a seat as Tonks lifted a disgruntled looking Moony.

"To think of all I did for today, and this is what happens to me," said Remus as he eased into a couch.

"Hey, that is a good point," said Harry, "Not that I mind, but why are you all here?"

Everyone stared at Harry open mouthed not really knowing to do. Remus then got up.

"Harry do you know what today is?" asked Moony.

"Err…" started Harry, "It's the 31st of July. What holidays are today?"

"Harry," Remus simply said as he did a count off with his fingers.

When it got to one finger everyone in the room shouted at the same thing at the same time.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Harry was stunned, to say the least. First, he had completely forgotten his birthday. Secondly, he thought everyone else had forgotten his birthday. Thirdly and lastly, he did not expect all these people to be here to celebrate his birth. Harry looked out to all of his smiling friends actually happy for being born. He was starting to say thank you when Remus started to clear his throat.

"Perhaps, you might want to take a shower and change, Harry?" Remus prompted looking at the sweaty sixteen years old in the muscle shirt.

Then it hit Remus, _he's wearing a muscle shirt!_ Moony quickly looked at Molly, _maybe she didn't notice the tattoos_?

"I think your right, Moony," said Harry as he started to make his way to his room as he turned to the remainder of the group.

Harry took a quick and thorough shower to make sure he was both cleaned of sweat and body odor from his work out. He pulled on a pair of dark blue jeans that he had bought at Madam Malkin's with a plain white t-shirt. Lacing up his old trainers that were full of holes, Harry made a promise to himself to go buy new shoes.

He walked out of his room to see that everyone was settled around the telly on the large couches. One of the adults lifted the wing chairs from the fireplace to the couches so there would be enough room for everyone. It also appeared that Dumbledore had conjured one of the chintz chairs he liked so much.

"Wotcher Harry!" greeted Tonks because she was the first to see him enter the room.

"Hullo, Tonks," greeted Harry as he made his way to find a seat with the rest of them, "Hello all, thanks for coming, it is a big surprise."

"Your way of greeting was a bit more of a surprise, mate," said Ron as he clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder to bring the birthday boy between Hermione and himself.

The next minute was filled with laughter, and Harry took the time to notice that everyone seemed to have changed, matured, a little bit. He looked at Ron and smiled weakly. Ron looked to be nearing six feet tall, with his everlasting fire red hair. However, it seemed that his face was finally filling in, making his nose look less long. Ron, compared to his other brothers, was neither tall and thin or short and stocky. In that respect, he looked like both of his parents at once. _With some training and muscle building,_ thought Harry, _Ron could get pretty toned, maybe that would help him get a girlfriend?_ Harry then smiled to himself and looked at his other best friend.

Hermione had also seemed to grow up too. _Last year was tough and you missed out on a lot of things_, Harry reminded himself, feeling bad about just noticing how his friends had grown. Hermione, in this case, had less bushy hair. However, Harry could definitely smell the copious amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Solution. Her complexion was slightly tan, suggesting that she had come back from a family vacation a while ago. Hermione also seemed to have grown a bit more, maybe to about five feet four inches tall.

Harry looked around at Ginny, the shy, little girl that he knew was replaced with a spunky, fireball that any man would be lucky to have, if he was slightly submissive. She, too, seemed to have changed and matured to the age of the other sixteen year olds in the group even though she was still fourteen. The sad part, Harry realized, was that some of Ginny's maturing revolved around him.

Next her sat Neville. Originally he was the forgetful little boy on the train that always lost his toad Trevor, now Harry saw the man in that boy. Having seen a picture of both Neville's parents, before they were indisposed indefinitely to a ward in St. Mungo's, Harry could say that Neville took on a lot of his mother's facial features. _He might have her looks_, thought Harry, _but he is also entirely different_ because the Neville that sat in front of Harry had a slight air of confidence due to the battle at the Department of Mystery, though it was needed self confidence he found, not arrogance.

Next to Neville sat Luna Lovegood, the newest addition to the group who had also helped in the battle at the Department of Mystery. Harry felt a connection with Luna that was different than that of any of his other friends. The connection he shared with this pale girl with blonde hair and large blue eyed was that of understanding. She, like him, had lost someone dear to the heart and was also ostracized by some of wizarding society for being 'loony'. What most people didn't know when they saw an eccentric girl like Luna, is that she saw the same things in them and more. She had this ability to say the right thing at the right moment, that is if she wasn't talking about Snorkacks, Heliopaths and such. She was the person that helped Harry the most after Sirius died.

The four other people that were on a couch were all in Harry's year and house. He wondered if today he was going to have to watch what he said in front of them. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were both quite beautiful Harry could admit without actually blushing. Lavender was white with a slight florid twinge in her cheeks and her straight blonde hair fell onto her shoulders. Unlike Hermione or Ginny, Lavender was more curvaceous and since it was summer, she liked to show it off a little bit more than what the standard Hogwarts uniform would allow_. However, as showy as it was, it was not tasteless,_ thought Harry.

Parvati Patil had been Harry's date to the Yule Ball in his fourth year, it was the other dance he told Summer about, and he still maintained that it was pretty awful. _Parvati was beautiful then and she remained so now,_ mused Harry as he took in the sight of her light complexion, dewy brown eyes, and semi-tide up brown hair that had a few lose wisps for it.

Harry never really paid that much attention to them because they were into dances, fashion and divination. _Well,_ abdicated Harry with a smirk, _I guess I'm into dances and fashion now._

Next to the girls sat one person he never thought would visit him. Seamus Finnigan was a burly Irish guy with short sandy hair with a smile that made several of the girls aquiver. If anything Seamus became the new Oliver Wood during their fourth year. The reason that Harry was surprised that Seamus actually came to spend time with him on his birthday was because his mother last year believed the _Daily Prophet_ in thinking, along with a lot of the wizarding community, that Harry and Professor Dumbledore were crazy. Granted they were all proven wrong, but hopefully Seamus learned to think for himself. _I'll have to ask him later_, planned Harry, _in the best diplomatic manner I can muster_.

Dean Thomas, who was Seamus's best friend, was also there. Dean Thomas was a nice, artistic and loyal guy. He had darker skin then Parvati, stood a bit over six feet and while he might not have been as muscle bound as his best mate Seamus, he had a more Harry- like physique.

All of his friends that sat around him were part of the secret organization they created last year called the Defense Association, D.A. for short, which was later dubbed Dumbledore's Army as a joke about the Minister's greatest fear. Harry trusted them all because they were all good people. _This will actually be a good birthday_, thought Harry as he soaked in all the caring and friendly faces around him.

Harry shook his head because he realized that someone was calling out his name.

"Harry, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "Would you like your cake or presents first?"

"I dunno, Mrs. Weasley," replied Harry.

He looked to the rest of his friends, including the twins, Tonks, Moony.

He then looked at the authority figures of Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley.

"What do you all think?" Harry asked everyone in the party, "Should we do cake first or presents?"

Most everyone voted for cake in clear loud voices, even Hermione, which surprised Harry because he didn't think her parents, whom were both dentists, would approve. Then again, it was his first birthday party, so he quickly let it drop as he talked with his friends about mindless things they had done over the summer as they waited for the cake to be cut.

"Harry," whispered Ron as he leaned into his friend on the right and Hermione leaned in to Harry on the left, "What was that letter about? The training stuff, did you have another…er…"

Both of his friends looked around the couches at all of their class mates, dorm mates and fellow fighters of right. They knew some of what they had to say could not be mentioned out in the open.

"Dreams?" supplied Hermione with the future code word.

Harry leaned closer to his friends, "Yes, but I sent the letter before them. It only goes to reinforce it. I will tell you later most likely, not now. There are too many ears here."

They were interrupted as Moony came back to the welcoming room to announced that the cake was served in the dining room. Harry and Remus lead the way for everyone to the dining room through the open door in the kitchen.

The long mahogany table was outlined with seventeen pieces of chocolate cake with emerald green frosting. Mrs. Weasley had made it herself, and Harry was always a fan of Mrs. Weasley's cooking. On one side of the table was a solitary piece of cake with two candles in it, a one and six. Everyone took seats around the table, Harry at the piece of cake that signified his age, with his best friends sitting on either his right or left.

Mrs. Weasley came over to the two candles and with a snap of her fingers, both were alight. The lights were dimmed in the dining room around the table. Everyone at once started up with the song Happy Birthday, a song that for the first time to Harry actually meant he had a happy birthday. With everyone around him, it truly made Harry happy to have been born.

The song started to fade, ending on the twins, Fred and George, adding, "And many more!"

_The one thing I'm lucky to have right now_, thought Harry,_ is to have lived long enough to sit here with everyone._

"Harry," said Remus as he put a hand on his late best friends' son and godson, "It's time to make a wish."

Harry looked up at Remus, his emerald eyes moist from the thoughts he was having. Both the thoughts of extreme happiness and sadness, knowing that one day all of this might be gone because he was gone.

_There is only one thing I can wish for,_ thought Harry. _I hope none of this love ever goes away, no matter what may happen in the future. _

Harry then straightened up and leaned over to blow out the candles, his candles, he clarified to himself. Everyone cheered. Ron clamped him on the back while Hermione gave him a companionable hug. It was a happy day for Harry; one he would never forget.

"Harry," asked Hermione, "What did you wish for?"

"Blimey, Hermione!" exclaimed Ron on the other side of Harry, "If you ask him it won't come true!"

Harry just embraced them by draping an arm over each of their shoulders and let out a bark of laughter that reminded him of a certain loved one, "I wished that all of you got me some good presents."

He then leaned back and gave big wink with a lopsided smile. Everyone close to Harry knew he didn't need or want expensive, outlandish gifts. They all knew that being there for him on his first birthday party was a big enough gift for him.

Harry quickly got up and walked over to Moony and leaned down with a hand covering their ears.

"Moony," started Harry in a whispered tone, "How much do the others know about the Order?"

The last part was indicated to Luna, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati. Considering what happened to the last Order of the Phoenix, Harry didn't want to take any chances.

"Harry," Moony whispered back, "We recruited some of their parents based on the student lists from the D.A."

"No one told me," stated Harry.

"Not now, Harry," said Remus as he got up with his eyes twinkling, "Now I have to go to set up a big prank to cover up this 'suspicious' conversation."

Harry got back to his seat with a smile. Hermione leaned over to him.

"What was that about Harry?" she asked.

"Oh, you'll see," was all Harry could say.

"Oi!" yelled one of the twins, "Harry, you want your presents now?" 

The other one had a mischievous grin. Harry thought, _I wonder what they're up to_.

"Yes, bring 'em on!" he answered jovially.

They then both pulled out their wands and shouted, "ACCIO PRESENTS!"

And every single present came zooming into the room and set itself on the table. Harry knew there was going to be more to it, this was too bland for them. They then both raised their wands again to the presents and shouted even louder.

"EXPELLO!"

All of the presents got up and individually flew into Harry very fast. Try as he might, he couldn't catch every single one to set them down. He quickly ducked under the table so as not to get hit with a barrage presents. Unfortunately, Hermione and Ron weren't so lucky.

As good a keeper as Ron was in quidditch, the presents were just moving too fast. He went to the ground after taking one hard to the shoulder. Hermione, on the other hand, sat there like a deer in headlights. She was easily taken down by two presents hitting her simultaneously.

After Fred and George finally let up, the friends stood up to see the clutter of presents around them and started to laugh. Everyone else was a bit uneasy around the table. Fred and George returned the presents to the middle of the table and returned to their seats.

Harry smiled and looked at the twins and said, "Thank you Fred and George for actually showering me with presents."

Everyone around the table seemed to have just gotten the joke as they looked between Harry and the twins. No one knew who the first to snort into laughter was, but soon everyone followed suit with uproarious laughter.

Dumbledore then stood up and settled everyone with his raised hands, "If I may, I would like to make a speech for this occasion," started the Headmaster.

Harry inwardly groaned,_ please don't embarrass me. _

"I would like to say that I feel honored to be among such fine people as you to celebrate this once in a life time event. Today our young Harry turns sixteen, and in ancient times would be considered an adult. Harry is an adult in many ways, but today I hope he will downgrade a bit and act like a kid and have some fun. There are some people here that could not make it today due to job duties and other circumstances. They are sorely missed, but not forgotten. I ask that before we raise our glass to Harry, we raise our glass to those who could not be here today."

With that everyone raised a glass, whether knowingly or unknowingly, for those who could not be there today. _For Sirius_, thought Harry as he raised his glass into the air.

"Now, I ask we raise our glass to Harry in hope that we will all see each other here next year," finished the old wizard.

Again everyone took a sip of their various drinks.

"And, Harry," continued the Headmaster, "I have some pressing issues I must attend to, so if I could give, or rather return, my present to you."

He then pulled out a long cylindrical parcel and handed it over to the new sixteen year old.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry as he opened up the parcel to reveal his Firebolt.

"Harry," continued the Headmaster with a smile, "You will find that I improved it slightly; you will see what I mean because I left the instructions on your desk in your room.

"I dare say that Gryffindor will be a hard team to beat this year because another part of my present is reinstating you to the house team. I'm also sorry, my boy, but I must attend to these pressing matters. Why Cornelius can't handle it himself is beyond me," said Dumbledore as he picked up his cloak to approach the fireplace for the floo. Harry wanted to go after the Headmaster and thank him personally. Instead he bade the aged Headmaster good luck and thanked him for attending and his gift.

"Harry," exclaimed Hermione as she slide a book shaped present to him, "Open mine next."

Harry did and found it to be a defense book. _Grey Magic: Stronger then a Stunner yet weaker then the Killing Curse_ by Basil Y. Allmeans. He looked at Hermione with a raised eyebrow, _I can't believe Hermione would get me a slightly dark book._

"I thought you could use it for dueling and such. Seeing as our past record with trouble and that the second war is starting," said Hermione, "I hope you like."

"Hermione," said Harry as he gave her a hug, "I love it, it was very thoughtful."

Hermione brushed away a stray tear that traveled down her cheek.

"Here mate, open mine," said Ron as he shoved him a cylindrical parcel.

Harry opened it to find that it was a wizarding poster. And of course, it was of Ron's favorite team, the Chudley Cannons. The only thing different was that it was of a single player, Galvin Gudgeon, the team seeker, who in the poster was going for a Wronskei Feint.

Ron then pointed to the bottom right corner, "It's also signed, too."

"Wow, Ron," said Harry thinking of the place on his wall were he wanted to hang it, "Thanks, mate."

He clamped Ron on the shoulder for his thanks and rolled up the poster to hang it later. Ginny then gave her present, which was an odd assortment of candies like Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizbees and some Jelly Slugs. Parvati and Lavender then gave him a set of hair gel for what they thought would 'tame the beast'.

"I got you this Harry," said Dean as he gave small box to Harry, "I'm not sure if you like the team…"

Harry opened up the box to find a replica West Ham United maroon and baby blue jersey.

"Dean," said Harry with a smile, "It's wicked."

Dean just shrugged and was jostled out of the way by Seamus you was shoving a small gift to Harry, "This is a present from both me and me mum. She'd like to apologize for last year. So we got you this."

Harry opened it to find a miniature medallion of a thin, mournful looking bird. Some people let out gasps, _again something I don't know about_, thought Harry.

"It's an augurey amulet that me mum charmed to go cold whenever a bad omen is present. Me and me mum thought it might be useful," finished Seamus.

Wow, mouthed Harry, this was way too much. He shouldn't be getting all of this. He looked at Seamus, his dorm mate for the past five years and thanked him and asked him to spread his thanks to his mother.

Luna was the next person to approach Harry with an oddly wrapped gift she presented to Harry like a knight would present a sword to a king. He unwrapped the present to see a bone like blade set in a silver hilt with an emerald green leather handle. Confusion crossed his eyes as he looked at Luna.

"In the beginning of the summer, me and daddy went to Sweden to look for Crumpled Horn Snorkacks. We weren't able to find any herds, but we did see a solitary dead one. We were able to take of the horns and make it into a dagger for you," said Luna, "It's meant for decoration, and besides it looks pretty."

She then fluttered off to her seat next to Ginny leaving a highly confused looking Harry. Hermione leaned over and wanted to examine the dagger because she could hardly believe that some one was able to find the not-so-made-up animal. Harry didn't think the dagger was 'pretty' as Luna put it, but it was really cool. Harry thanked Luna and promised to get a display case for it.

Neville then sent his gift to Harry. Inside the tan clay pot was a small patch that looked a lot like four-leaf clovers. Neville explained how they were an herb called dittany that is reported to have certain unknown magical properties. The reason it is unknown was because they were so rare, it normally could never be tested. Neville assured Harry that he found a pretty big patch in the wood around his house.

"Alright there Harry?" asked Tonks, "Well, I got you something I thought may be useful personally. Not to mention I got gifts from Mad-Eye, Kingsley and Hagrid, who are all sorry that they couldn't be here today. Here you go, try mine first."

Harry was given a small rectangular package from Tonks. He opened it to find purplish leather like strap that had two fasteners coming out of it.

"Er…Tonks…what is it?" asked Harry.

"Oh, silly me," said the metamorphagus, "It's a wand holster Harry. And not the normal dragon hide variety. I was able to get the material from Hagrid. Harry what you've got there is a Graphorn wand holster. It should, because of the animal's powerful magic resistant hide, prevent your wand and holster from ever being summoned away from you."

"Tonks, this is more than useful. I was thinking about buying a holster for myself, but this is so much better," Harry got up and gave Tonks a hug and whispered into her ear, "I'll need to talk to you later."

Tonks just whispered back, "I know, Dumbledore told me, we'll have some time tonight," she ended with a knowing wink.

"And these three are from Mad-Eye, Kingsley and Hagrid respectively. They said they all left notes," finished Tonks.

Harry picked up the small book like one from Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. He opened the present to find a cracked, brown leather book that had no title on the front of it. Harry opened it up to find the ex-Auror's letter inscribed inside of it.

Potter,

This book is a collection, or journal, of all the spells I have ever used in my career as an Auror. I think it should be wise for you to practice and learn up on these for one day they may save your life or your friends' lives. Some of these spells are HIGHLY dangerous and should never be attempted. If I find that you have, I will personally use that spell against you.

It is needless to say anything else except Happy Birthday and I hope you have another.

Moody

_Wow, _thought Harry_, Moody sure knows how to make birthdays fun and enjoyable. _Harry put the book down and told Hermione that she might be able to read it when he was done with it and only when he was done with it. He didn't want her to get hurt from any of the spells that Moody indicated were dangerous.

The next letter Harry read was from Kingsley.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! I'm sorry I couldn't be there today because, from what I hear from Tonks, the 'after party' is going to be memorable. I wish you my best, not as an Auror or an Order member, but hopefully as a friend. I might not have told you this, but the work you did last year to teach students and spread the truth was quite remarkable. It reminded me of the Apartheid Protests I was in when I was younger.

My gift for you comes straight from the book I leant you. Inside you will find a brown leather wrist cuff similar to a brace. On it I have emblazoned the West African symbol Akoben, which is for vigilance. I also placed a protective Kingo charm on it. The protection goes though out your body and should be able to absorb the affect of a stunner.

Best of wishes, and I hope you never have to test out the protection and just wear because it looks good.

Kingsley Shakelbolt

Harry opened up the parcel to find a five centimeter wide strap of brown leather that had a black hook shaped marking burned into it. He placed it on his wrist, wondering how to attach it. The second it touched his wrist, the ends met together and fused leaving it a seamless leather cuff. Harry liked how it was simple, plain and meaningful.

He then moved on to the next present from one of his favorite teachers and first friend, Hagrid. Inside was another untidily scrawled letter of his.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday!

Think you might find these useful. I lent Nymphie some of the material for something or other. I'll tell you the story when I see you this year. Have a good summer.

All the best,

Hagrid

Inside the parcel that Hagrid sent were a pair of purplish boots. _Must be Graphorn also,_ thought Harry, _but aren't they dangerous? And where would Hagrid find one to get its hide? _Harry slipped on the boots, and found they actually fit him quite well.

Next up was Arthur Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley, please," said Harry with his hands up, "You don't need to give me anything, you are family."

"Even more reason to give this, too!" exclaimed the slightly balding red haired wizard.

Harry gave in because he knew no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to win. He unwrapped the present to find a VCR.

"Mr. Weasley, this is perfect for the telly!" exclaimed Harry because this gift was not just for him, but for the house as a whole.

"I also got you some of these…err….Kachettes things," said the enthused muggle lover.

Harry was given three movie cassettes, _Alien, The Blob _and _Monty Python and Search for the Holy Grail_. Harry was unsure about the movies because he hadn't seen that many.

Mrs. Weasley then walked up to Harry and gave him a powerful embrace and a kiss on the cheek.

"Harry, ever since your first train ride with Ron, you two have been best of friends. Shortly afterwards you became a friend of the entire family. That is why today, my gift to you is to make you an honorary Weasley and give you a hand on our clock," finished Mrs. Weasley as she smothered him with a hug.

Harry's eyes began to moisten a little. _Family,_ thought Harry, _I knew I always had family in my friends, but now it seems so official_.

Just then the door burst open to reveal a clown riding a unicycle wearing baggy lime green pants, a purple yellow polka dotted shirt with a giant orange flower in it and lime green bowler. He was balancing a long stick across his nose. He made his way over to Harry and jumped off the unicycle. He surveyed the room and then took a sniff of his flower. He leaned into to Harry and motioned him to sniff the flower.

Harry looked up at the clown and realized it was Remus. A smile crept onto his face and went to sniff the flower. There was no smell to it and no prank. _Odd_, thought Harry.

The clown's face became saddened, and looked at Harry and then back at his flower. The clown re-sniffed his flower to have it spray water all over his face. He took off his lime green hat to get a handkerchief. Once the hat left his head, his trousers fell down to reveal skinny pale legs and red boxers with a moving navy blue line on it. Everybody, again, went into a bout of hysterical laughter at the clown's antics.

Remus then removed his wand and changed himself back to normal.

"Moony, I think you looked better the other way," said Harry between laughs.

Remus just smiled and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Do you want my present?"

"Remus, you didn't have to get me one," replied Harry trying to fix his unfixable hair.

Moony leaned in and told Harry that he got it for him to use with Sun Gao. He then presented Harry with the stick he came in with. Remus called it a Bo, and told him it was an ancient Chinese weapon.

"Though it might not look lethal," continued Remus, "In the right hands it would be."

Harry thanked Remus and gave him a hug.

Today was another good day in Harry's mind, and there was no way to make it better. The party started to wind down a bit. There was some chatting and examining of presents. Harry was wondering why no one was leaving. That is until Fred and George stood up on their chairs.

"Excuse us," said Fred, "But we have not presented our gifts yet."

"Yes," continued George, "It has become a tradition between brothers in the Weasley Family."

"To take a brother out on the town when they turn sixteen," said Fred.

"Wait a tic," interrupted Ron, "You never did that with me!"

"Ickle Ronniekins," replied George, "We were just getting to that."

"So sit down," ordered Fred with a wink, "And shut your yap."

"As we were saying," continued George, "We would like to celebrate with Harry here tonight."

"But, it has also come to our attention," replied Fred, "that a certain younger brother of ours has not been in on the family tradition due to our untimely departure from the Wizarding Institution of Learning known as Hogwarts."

There were many claps and cheers from the students who remembered the awe inspiring way the twins left. Harry also noticed how Mrs. Weasley stood in the doorway with her lips held together tightly.

"Tonight," said George when the applause died down, "we shall invite all of you on this family tradition."

"But, keep in mind there will be chaperones," replied Fred.

A lot of the people groaned at the announcement.

"Tonight's chaperones are, of course, us, " said George as he reached his hand down to pull up Tonks, "And the lovely Ms. Nymphadora Tonks."

Tonks punched George in the shoulder for saying her first name out loud. "It's just Tonks," she told the group.

"Alright you lot," said Fred as he jumped off the table, "Go grab your coats, it's going to be a late night with some rain in the forecast. Meet at the lift in two minutes."

After the twins got down from the table, there was a mad rush for everyone to get their coats and other belongings. Harry ran into his room to grab his brown leather jacket and wand. He knew he was going out with his friends and an Auror, but he just wanted to make sure he was safe. He put his wand in his new Graphorn hide wand holster and ran into to the lift with the rest of his friends. Fred quickly hit the button for the lobby floor.

Mrs. Weasley's screams of, "And there shall be no drinking!" could be heard though the closed door.

Harry turned to Fred with a smile.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"Don't worry Harry," replied George, "We found the perfect place in muggle London. You'll all love it, even you Hermione."

Harry looked back to see Ron and Ginny holding onto Hermione. A smile plastered his face thinking how both Ron and Ginny must have dragged her into the lift. Harry looked back at the rest of the people cramped in the lift. _This has been my best birthday ever, _was his last thought before the lift reached the lobby floor.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading, just a few notes at the bottom.

1-5 are actual passages from _The Art of War_ by Sun Tzu.

6 (Miranda Goshawk) is a text book writer from the Harry Potter series

7 (Emeric Switch) is also text book writer from Harry Potter series

As is 8 (Phyllida Spore)

9, _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_ by Anonymous, I used from _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _(Guess who wrote it...)


	4. Fight for Your Right

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything that has to remotely do with the world he comes from as created by J.K. Rowling. I also do not own the title as it is also owned by J.K. Rowling. However, J.K. Rowling does not own my mind (and I highly doubt that she would want to) so the plot is all mine  
THIS IS THE BETA'D VERSION! 

I 333 Nita, the bestest Beta in all the land!

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By forfie 

Chapter 4.) Fight for Your Right

The Hogshead was the fairly frequented bar that stood at 6 Lisle Street in London. It served anything from stout ale, pale ale, to the spicy Caribbean rum that might tickle someone's fancy. Currently that same Caribbean rum was resting in the hands of one Harry Potter.

_No wonder those two chose this place, _thought the young wizard as he looked around the bar._ Not only is it similar in name, but the clientele could either be wizards or weirdoes._ He snorted as he took a sip from the dark brown bottle.

"Harry, don't you think you've had enough?" came the voice of his bushy haired best friend.

"Hermione," chided his other best friend, Ron Weasley, "It's only his first!"

Hermione Granger just huffed, took a sip of her cola, then sat back against the booth with her arms folded in front of her with a McGonagall stern tight-lipped face. She then muttered some things along the lines of 'underage' and 'regret it in the morning'.

"Oi, you two!" called out George as he came back with a pitcher of the house beer and a Guinness for Seamus, "What are you doing?"

"I think it's what me mum and me do call a 'lover's quarrel," replied Seamus as he took the glass of Guinness with a nod of thanks.

Both Ron and Hermione glared at Seamus who stuck up his hands to block the looks of indignation sent his way. Harry, George, Dean, Parvati and Lavender all burst out in laughter at the exchange of words and Seamus's actions. Still chuckling, Harry looked into the corner to see Neville, Ginny, and Luna trying to figure out how to play a game of darts. Luckily, Fred was teaching them and making sure that no one would hustle them. _Someone's missing, _thought the raven-haired teen.

"George, where's Tonks?" asked Dean who had been interested in her ever since he found out that she could change her appearance at will.

"Yeah, where is Dean's crush?" asked Ron with a wink.

"Weasley," started Dean as he began to rise to his full height of 6 feet 2 inches, "Are you trying to take the piss out of me?"

In response Ron lifted himself up matching Dean's height, "I'm just trying to make you throw a bit of a wobbly," said the red headed teen with a wink.

Then they both broke out in laughter, clomping each other on the shoulder at the same time and sitting down to finish their drinks amongst the laughter. Ron had warmed up to Dean after finding out that his sister, Ginny, did not intend to date his dorm mate. A couple glasses of beer also softened up the red head to a jolly like state.

Looking back at George, Harry restated his question only to be answered by George, pointing behind his back to the bar counter where Tonks seemed to be chatting up with a man that appeared to be in his late twenties, physically fit with dark brown shaggy hair and a roguish smile plastering his pallid face. Everyone's attentions were drawn to the stranger only to be dismissed as a random bar hook up, not something uncommon by any means.

Making their way to the table, Neville, Ginny, Luna and Fred pushed into the semi circular both. It was now filled in so that Fred sat at one end next to Luna, who sat next to Neville. Neville sat next to Ginny, and on Ginny's left sat Seamus. Dean was on the left of Seamus, with Lavender Brown to his left. The man of the hour, Harry, sat on the left of Parvati, who sat on the left of her best friend, Lavender. Next to Harry sat his first school friend, Ron. Slouching moodily next to Ron was Harry's other best friend, Hermione. The semi circle was complete with George Weasley sitting on the other end, opposite his brother.

Light banter and joking was going on all around the table, everyone telling each other about how their summer hols were going. Ron was a little worried to learn about Summer because you 'never know who might be a scarlet woman' which only earned him glares from all the girls at the table, save Luna who looked around dreamily at everything. The conversations turned back to the calm banter and continuous sips of their various drinks.

Finishing his bottle of rum and staring at the brown glass reflectively, Harry remembered something Remus mentioned earlier in the night. He turned to Parvati on his right to see how much they knew about the Order.

"Hey, Parvati," Harry whispered to the Indian beauty that sat next to him trying to get her attention in which he was successful, "Do you know about a certain…group of wizards that…um…_Order Phoenixes…_"

Realizing that he had probably failed horrible and she thought it was some weird pick up line, he inwardly groaned.

In response, Parvati just leaned over and covered his ear with her hands to make it seem like she was either hitting on him or like she was telling a big secret. She was, after all, one of the schools biggest gossips, but to hold that title you need to obtain information. If anything, she would consider herself having the basics of espionage covered.

"Yes, Harry, I do," she whispered in his ear, "Try to sound like I'm propositioning you or else the others will get suspicious," with that she pulled away from his ear and gave him a knowing look with a little smirk.

_Damn she is good_, thought Harry, _and I used to think she was a ditz, I guess it was all an act. A damn good act_ _at that too!_ Harry tried his best to look flustered and pulled at his shirt collar dramatically.

"Er…maybe you can tell me more about this…um…_birthday_ present?" _I hope that was good enough, _thought Harry as she leaned in again to tell him more.

"That was really good," she cooed, "Anyway, my father was asked by the headmaster because of something along the line of 'international cooperation' or something. I didn't really pick it up too well, and all I officially know is that there is an Order."

Harry just nodded thinking that it would end the 'info session'.

Parvati still held his ear, "Maybe I should give you a better birthday present? After all, that training you did definitely made you more yummy than before," and with that she gently licked his ear in a tantalizingly seductive way.

To say Harry was shocked would be an understatement, because it looked as if he had just became catatonic for a few brief seconds. He looked over at Parvati, who had a coy smile on her face, and began to blush frantically.

Saying out loud exactly what he was thinking, "I think that would be fun," then having realized that he had actually said it out loud, he quickly covered his mouth in surprise, embarrassment and a little bit of hope. Parvati just continued to smile and returned to her drink and conversation with Lavender.

Harry turned to his left to see Ron give him a questioning look. Harry just shrugged it off hoping Ron would just drop it, which luckily is exactly what he did.

"Mate," started Ron, "I've been meaning to ask you why you wanted the…uh…_gang_ to train?"

The gang was Ron's obvious term for the six students who went to the Department of Mystery. Harry realized that they would need to come up with a better name soon because the 'Trio' had grown in size. Not to mention, 'Trio' didn't sound as good as the Marauders.

"Ron I'd rather tell you all together," said Harry as he motioned to how the whole group was separated between Parvati, Lavender, Dean, Seamus and the twins.

"Oi!" shouted Ron, "Neville, Luna, and Ginny we need to have a bit of a talk."

Harry just put his head in his hands because even he could see Ron's lack of tact in the situation. Hermione had the same look on her face as Harry as the six made their way out of the booth and walked to the restrooms, which was the farthest place away from the group. They all stood in a circle looking at the tall red head that called this meeting together.

"Um…" was the only thing Ron could muster to say.

"Ron called us together because he wanted me to answer why I asked you all to train," said Harry trying to help his friend out.

All attention from the group was turned from Ron to him.

"I was wondering the same thing myself," interjected Hermione, "It seemed quite out of your character to ask us to do more work…"

"Yeah," butted in Ron, "Hermione is the one that always asks us to do more work."

Hermione just glared at Ron as if he was an offending pest. However, Ginny just stamped on Ron's foot causing the tall boy to wince.

"You were saying Harry?" asked Neville trying to divert attention from the current Ron bashing.

"The reason I asked you all to train," said Harry picking up Neville's question, "Is because we all went to the Ministry together…"

"Oh Harry!" wailed Hermione and she embraced him, "If this is about Sirius you don't have to te-grmphh…"

Ron placed a hand on Hermione's mouth, "Honestly, and you say I have no tact?"

"Hermione, I've accepted it, and I would prefer if you didn't mollycoddle me," Harry replied, a bit irritated. "I am not over it, but time will heal all wounds."

"Are you sure Harry?" asked Hermione as she wiped tears off her face, "I don't really know how you feel right now, but…"

"Hermione, I'm _not_ feeling," said Harry, "And that is what is making it better. I already got my anger out, but can we please get back to the point?"

Everyone nodded as Hermione let go of the messy-haired boy and bit her bottom lip as if holding something back.

"Alright," started Harry, "I asked you all to train because, if anything, the Death Eaters are fairly…_angry_ at us because of the Department of Mystery fiasco. So I want us all to be on top of anything and everything they throw at us.

"The incentive for this now is some information I will tell you, but I don't want it to wreck our celebration," then Harry remembered something that would be perfect as a cover ploy for their talk before spreading his news. "Azkaban was razed yesterday."

"No!" breathed Neville and Ron as Ginny gasped. Hermione started to cry and held Ginny for support while Luna's eyes lost their dreaminess and narrowed, seemingly wanting to bore a hole into the bar floor. The one positive thing that they could all attest to was putting eleven Death Eaters into custody; now it seemed like a hollow victory that used to fill them with pride.

"T-t-there's m-m-more isn't t-t-there?" asked Hermione while she wiped away her tears and thanked Ginny for the shoulder to lean on.

"Slightly…Voldemort," Harry noticed that Neville, Ron, Ginny and Luna still shuddered at the name, "Didn't just take back Malfoy and his cronies. Voldemort took _every _bloody prisoner."

"Merlin's beard!" exclaimed Ron, "That has to be over four hundred people."

"Keep it down!" shouted Hermione, who then realized she was shouting, and lowered her own voice. "Do you want everyone to hear?"

"That's why I asked you all to train," said Harry, "Because whether you want to admit it or not, we are part of this war."

Everyone was solemn and Harry knew that they were making similar promises to themselves like he did at the beginning of the summer. _Never give in, _Harry thought to himself, _and never show weakness._

"Okay," said Harry braking the somber mood, "Neville, when's your birthday?"

Neville was shocked at the question because of its complete randomness.

"It's July 30th actually," said Neville, "Why are you asking now?"

"Happy Birthday, Neville!" exclaimed Harry, "Sorry I didn't get you anything, but do you think your Gran will let you stay the night? I'm going to ask everyone else if they want to stay the night. I'm sure that we could all fit on sleeping bags on the roof or in the 'welcoming hall'."

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" roared Hermione, "Are you using Neville's birthday as a cover up for us talking here?"

"Well," said Harry a bit bashfully, "I really want you all to stay the night, and I think Neville's belated birthday is a good excuse. Not to mention I plan to get properly pissed tonight, and I'm betting some of us would rather sleep it off at my place, seeing as how it is closer."

"Let's just go back and _try _to enjoy ourselves as much as possible. It's a good idea Harry, what say you Mate?" finished Ron as he clomped Neville on the shoulder.

"I say," said Neville looking at everyone, "That I have a glass waiting for me at the table and a spot to pass out waiting for me at your house Harry."

With that, the six left from their impromptu meeting with a still huffy Hermione to go back to the table to ask the others. Before they took their seats, they noticed that Tonks was back, but not alone. She had brought the pale, dark haired man she was talking to with her.

"…And he said," in a thick accent that sounded similar to Viktor Krum's Bulgarian laced English, "Maybe ve should tell hem vere the rocks are?"

Everyone in the booth began laughing at what apparently was a joke while the other six looked at each other.

"Ahh…chello there," the accented man said, "Are these the friends you vere talking about?"

"Oh yes," said Lavender as she took another sip of her drink.

"I'm Hermione, this is Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna," Hermione introduced everyone, pointing out the faces to the names respectively.

"Chello there, Chermione, Charry, Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna," replied the man as he shook each ones hand respectively, "I am Ratai Rumianetsev Rudomet, but my comrades just call me Ratai."

"Do you know a Viktor Krum?" asked Ron before anyone could stop him.

Ratai just laughed at the uneasiness of everyone in the booth. Most people knew of Ron's _dislike_ of the famous Bulgarian quidditch seeker.

"I chave to say that I chave never known some vone by that name," replied Ratai, "But by the name alone I vould chave to say he was most likely Bulgarian or Slavic."

"How could you tell?" asked Hermione, "I mean a name by itself could mean anything."

"Yes, this true, chowever, in my line of business I traveled around a bit. If you are vondering, I am from east Russia in vhat you vould call Siberia."

"Oh!" said an excited Luna, "Have you ever seen a Dilly-wog?"

"A Dilly-wog?" questioned the Russian as he looked around the group with an expression on his face akin to 'Is she serious' before answering, "I am sorry, but I chave never cheard of a Dilly-wog."

"Don't worry," said Ginny as she ushered her friends to sit down, "I would be more afraid if you had heard of it."

As the six pushed themselves into the seat, Harry distinctly heard Ron mutter something along the lines of 'mental', which Harry didn't appreciate at all. Luna might have had some crazy notions, but the private conversations that he had with her showed that she was more insightful than some of his other friends.

"Forgive me please," spoke Ratai, "But I chave a pressing engagement that I must go to. Maybe I vill see you all later. Chave a good evening Dora."

With a wink to Tonks and a wave goodbye, Ratai left the bar into the black night.

"Aww," started Dean, "Tonks, I thought you fancied me?"

"Deanie-pooh I do-oo-oo," cooed Tonks, "But there is just…_something_…about Ratai, I dunno what it is."

"I don't see what the big deal is," replied Parvati to Harry, and with a knowing smirk, "I mean he isn't even as good looking as you."

Harry tried his best not to blush at her statement and took a sip of his refreshed drink so that he didn't have to answer her.

"Err…guys?", Harry voiced to everyone in the booth, "I was wondering, in honour of my birthday, and on behalf of Neville's birthday too…maybe you would all like to…spend the night at my place? You know, to sleep off the liquor and all."

"Neville, it's your birthday?" asked Lavender while Hermione's face was tinged with redness and biting her bottom lip in evident anger of Harry actually proposing this.

"Err…No, yesterday was my birthday…well I guess you can call it today considering I was born at 11:59p.m." He replied as he took a sip of his drink to end his ramble-like speaking.

_I didn't know it was that close,_ thought Harry until he remembered that Dumbledore told him that Neville and he had really close birthdays,_ I wonder at what time I was born? I should have asked Sirius._ With that thought Harry's hand tightened on his bottle of rum slightly. Even though he was doing his best to accept his godfather's death, Harry still knew there were things he should've asked. _I can always ask Remus now_, he resolved.

Dean, who was already a bit tipsy, couldn't help but agree, and he was soon followed by most members in the booth along with the twins and Tonks who both promised to tell all their parents where they would be.

"What did you get?" asked Seamus trying to switch the conversation back to Neville's recent birthday.

"Well…My Gran was really proud of me and got me a Wizard Wireless and a new wand because my other one broke." At that Neville looked at Harry to reassure him that it wasn't his fault and Harry just shrugged it off. "My new wand is a beauty though because she had it crafted for me."

"Crafted?" asked Dean.

"Oh, yes…sorry," said Neville, realizing that some of his more muggle raised friends wouldn't know about wand crafting, "A crafted wand is not like an Ollivander wand because those are more generic with the set woods and cores he uses. A crafted wand is specifically made for a person and can be made with any magical core or cores."

"Why doesn't everyone get one like that?" asked Dean.

"It's way too bloody expensive," answered Ron, "Not to mention, why spend so much money on your first wand? It's more something that you would buy if you plan on using it for a long time, if not forever."

"What's it made out of, Nev?" asked Lavender.

Neville blushed at the nick name he was called, "Well…the core is an abraxan feather wrapped by a hippogriff's tail hair; the wood is from a 2,000 year old olive tree and its 10 and 5/8ths inches long."

"Ooo," said Parvati and then continued in a sultry voice, "You know what they say about wand size."

Most of the group, in particular the girls, were laughing at Parvati's statement and the long lasting blush on Neville's face.

The group continued to talk merrily with one another, with everyone getting to different states of intoxication. Harry and Ron both coaxed their straight-laced friend into trying some intoxicating beverages, which made a major difference because the group no longer had a huffy Hermione. Talk soon turned to the rejoicing sixth years because they did not have any homework over the hols because of their O.W.L.s. They also teased the only fifth years in the group, Ginny and Luna, about how hard the exams were and what to expect in their coming year. For Harry, the night soon turned into a complete daze.

"Urgh…" was the only sound that escaped the raven haired, green eyed, bespectacled sixteen year old. _Won't someone turn out the bloody lights, _he thought to himself?

"What the bloody…" shouted someone but was soon quieted by the shouts of others who in turn all groaned because of pounding headaches.

Opening his eyes, Harry cringed at the sight of the brightest light he had ever seen. _Can't someone turn that bloody thing off?_ Before he tried to get up he felt a cool glass pressed against his lips. Since he felt overly dehydrated, Harry greedily drank, only to realize too late that this could all be some Death Eater plot. He jumped up quickly to tackle the person only to finally see that is was Moony.

"Good to see that you're up," said the werewolf, "But I think I need to tend to the others."

Harry looked around and saw that everyone, minus Tonks and the Twins, was sprawled out in some position on the roof apparently where they passed out.

"What happened?" was all Harry could manage to ask as he saw Parvati curled up in fetal position under his brown leather jacket.

"As much as I can put together," said Remus as he started giving the Pepper-Up potion to the others, "You all came back here, rightly pissed, and passed out on the roof. Why, I don't know, considering that light rain we had."

The other occupants of the roof were starting to wake up after their dose of the potion, most just sitting and trying to get their bearings. After he administered the last bit of potion to an oddly positioned sleeping Dean, Remus turned to Harry.

"After everyone's gone, I'll give you your actual birthday presents, along with Dumbledore's real present."

"What do you mean Remus?" asked Harry as Parvati gave him back his jacket and smiled her thanks. "I thought the Bo _was_ my real present."

"Oh, it was a real present, but not the only one," he said as he started ushering people downstairs, "I actually preferred the way I delivered it."

"I bet," said Harry with a smile, "Just wanting to show your knickers to the ladies, eh Moony?"

With that, he pushed Harry to the stairway and made a last search that the roof was clear of all the sleeping teenagers.

After everyone had gone to their respective homes, most likely to get a tongue lashing from their parents, Remus was sitting in Harry's room going over the 'real' presents that his friends could not know about. Remus, mostly due to Dumbledore's help, was allowed to teach Harry apparition and he would be allowed to take the test a year early for a license. However, it did come with some restrictions, set up because of the Minister, which included not allowing anybody to see him apparate (both in the wizard and muggle worlds) and for it to only be used in dire emergencies. Remus explained that he was setting all of this up along with the last gift, which was Dumbledore's idea, during the time that he said he was at an Order meeting (and during his supposed date).

"So I'm allowed to do magic now?" asked Harry as he reviewed the official letter from the Department of Improper Use of Magic that allowed him the use of magic only under certain circumstances.

"Yes Harry," said Remus as he pointed to the paper the young teen was reading, "But you are only allowed to do it in front of a Hogwarts professor, past or present, as long as there is no one else in the area that could see."

"Why do I have so many of restrictions, Remus?"

"It's because if someone were to find out," said Moony, "Then they would become jealous about so called special treatment."

_Only Malfoy would complain about something like that,_ thought Harry until realization also brightened his eyes, _or Ron, too_.

"So when do we start?"

"How about now?" said the eager werewolf

Harry and Remus proceeded into the welcoming hall for an impromptu lesson on apparition.

"Apparating is not as hard as people play it out to be," began Remus going back into teacher mode. "You have to visualize a certain place, object or person you wish to appear next to.

"I find it similar to just taking a step," and with that Remus held Harry's shoulder and then in less than a second they both were five feet from where they were originally standing.

"Wow," was all Harry could say. "How come there isn't a navel lurching feeling like a portkey, or that nauseous feeling of the Floo? I mean it's just like we were…taking a step."

"That's the beauty of it," said Moony. "Technically speaking, it is just taking a step. However, it involves a certain amount of will power and a silent incantation. You will probably have to hold your wand while you do it for now, and mutter the spell. Eventually, Harry, you will be able to cast it wandless, much like any wizard can light or extinguish a candle without a wand. The only difference is that it requires a higher amount of will power along with a clear idea of where you would like to go. Longer distances require more willpower. That is basically the whole theory on apparition, hence why the Ministry doesn't allow it to be taught till legal age, because anyone with willpower could achieve it."

"What about splinchings?" asked a tentative Harry.

"That only happens when you have any doubt in what you are doing," replied Remus. "But I don't believe that will be a problem for you Harry."

"Why not?"

"Simply put, you're full of willpower," replied Moony with a faint smile. "Just like your father and mother were."

Wanting to get off the subject of his late parents for now, Harry asked one of the things that Remus forgot to mention, "What's the incantation?"

Remus slapped his forehead. "Sorry, completely forgot, its _appareo_. Remember though, before you try it, visualize where you want to be and will yourself there as you say the incantation."

Harry scrunched up his face in concentration as he willed himself to be standing next to the black leather couch that was only three feet away from him. Seeing the image in his mind, he tried to imagine himself standing there. Harry tried to use the same feeling he had during his third year when he cast a Patronus Charm to save Sirius and himself from a hundred dementors because he new he could. While he built up his confidence, he spoke in a regular voice.

"_Appareo_," and with that, the teenage wizard moved one and half feet to the couch.

"Very good, Harry!" exclaimed Lupin as he took two steps closer and clapped his hands.

Harry turned around and took in where he was and grimaced, "Remus, I didn't make it to where I was willing myself too."

"With time, you'll get that, Harry," reassured the werewolf, "The fact that you just apparated without splinching yourself and the crack of an average, seasoned apparator is really remarkable."

"I didn't hear a crack," stated Harry.

"Of course not," replied Remus, "You weren't here to hear it, you were traveling. You won't be able to hear your disapparition or apparition cracks because you are at the focal point of where the air displacement is, thus it is completely silent for the apparator. However, there is a nifty little trick I can teach you tomorrow to silence your disapparition so that you can escape undetected. Go ahead and try it one more time, c'mon, give it another round."

Harry tried again, aiming for the same distance, and wound up closer this time. Harry kept on practicing for the day with Lupin, until he was confident enough with apparating around the Dog House. In no time, he was able to apparate from the flat to the Ministry's Atrium and back in two seconds, under his invisibility cloak so as not to be noticed. Lupin went back to the Ministry to register Harry for an apparition test the next day.

Remus and Harry made their way to the Apparation Test Center of the Department of Transportation in the Ministry of Magic. After waiting in line for the better part of two and half hours, Harry was then made to apparate a distance of 32 kilometers to a small undetectable cut out in a park using his tester as an apparition focus. He passed the test as if he was an average, seasoned apparator with a score of 93 out of a possible 100 (failing grade would be anything below 85).

As Harry went to sleep that night he remembered his promise to Dumbledore to start training with Professor Sun Gao the next day because it was three days since his birthday. What the training would consist of, Harry wasn't too sure. He had concluded a long time ago that Sun Gao would be a really good teacher, and would pass on some interesting knowledge. With that, Harry fell into the blissful oblivion of a sleep without dreams.

**

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****A/N:** I'm sorry it was really short. The next chapter will be longer, I promise. 

Several more notes:

I set up the Apparation test scoring system like the driving test scoring system of my state. 85 is a failing grade hear, how I passed I will never know.

Be warned, this story will have no ships. None what-so-ever. Ron and Hermione are not together, hence why they were glaring at Seamus for his comment because they could never see themselves together in a relationship. And all of you that think Parviti and Harry are shacking up are sadly mistaken. Harry was just a drunken gentleman or Parviti stole Harry's coat. (However, there maybe some random interaction, they are hormonal teenagers after all) I went really OC with some of the characters, such as Parviti, but in the way I see it, she would be great for getting information because she always finds out gossip. I see Lavender being the ditz of the group, and from my sorely outdated psychology classes, I learned that twins are always some what similar. Maybe the hat didn't know whether to split Parviti into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, much what happened to Harry and Hermione. Anyway, just my speculation.

I personally do not like the all powerful wandless magic that many authors think Harry can do. However, there is one exception I will make and that is for the Hero Trilogy by Joe6991. If you have not read the first story or its sequel, I highly recommend it (considering it's a super-wandless-Harry story that I like should tip you off to how good it is). Anyway, back to my point of wandless magic, in my story there is limitations to wandless magic, as Remus pointed out, and it is very confusing laws by which it follows (like most of magic). Essentially, lighting a candle and putting it out is easy, while apparition takes slightly more power and will. Therefore, a reductor curse or a stunner is too complex for wandless magic in my mind.

Crafted wands are important.

As is Ratai.

Harry and the Gang are not alcoholics, they were just having some Twin sponsored fun. And whenever there is a Twin, there is something afoot.

The people I had with Harry will be slightly important. I want to try and pull the 6th year Gryffindors together, they have been studying together for five years, so I just trying to make them all get along. This also includes Luna and Ginny because of the DoM event. Remember what happened with Harry, Ron and Hermione after the Troll in first year? I see the same thing happening to those that experience battle, combat, dueling or what ever you fancy to call it. This also explains some of Kingsley's attitude toward Harry, and that will play a bigger role later.

_What to see in the upcoming chapter_…  
Harry's first day of training with Sun Gao, money problems that Griphook brings to Harry's attention and Harry spends some time with a friend that lives in London (Hint: Not anyone that was at DoM).


	5. His Stories

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything that has to remotely do with the world he comes from as created by J.K. Rowling. I also do not own the title as it is also owned by J.K. Rowling. However, J.K. Rowling does not own my mind (and I highly doubt that she would want to) so the plot is all mine, however, a lot is based on canonical fact from her official website.

Thisis the Beta'd version. Thank you, Nita!

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By forfie

Chapter 5.) His Stories

"GET UP!" shouted Remus to the sleeping raven haired boy, whose eyelids flickered open to reveal his bright emerald eyes, just as a liter of ice cold water was unceremoniously dumped, utterly soaking the teen.

"GAH!" screamed Harry as he tried to jump out of bed, only to be caught in the sheets and hit the hard wood floor face first.

"Merlin!" exclaimed Remus as he realized his little prank got out of hand, "Are you alright Harry?"

"Bloody, effing…terrific!" replied Harry as he got up and noticed his soaked pajamas, "A nice drying charm or something might be slightly helpful, you know?"

"Oh," replied the werewolf looking slightly abashed, "Pardon me, _siccus._"

The warm, drying air that flowed out of Lupin's wand quickly evaporated all of the ice water that soaked Harry's pajamas. Harry looked over at the clock, _5:00 a.m._, he thought to himself,_ that's even way to bloody early for me, and I've been working out early. Heck, the effing sun isn't even out! Grrr…one mangy werewolf is going to have to pay!_ Harry continued to grumble as he pushed Remus out of his room so that he could change for his work out.

"Harry!" shouted Remus through the door. "You're going to have to cut your work out down to running to make it in time for your lesson with Sun Gao!"

All that could be heard was the mumbling and growling of a teen who was definitely not a morning person.

By 5:45 a.m. Harry Potter was ready to make his first disguised apparition into Diagon Alley. This was accomplished with the use of his father's, and ultimately now his, invisibility cloak. The harder part would be blocking the sound of apparition, which was impossible. Therefore, Remus would apparate along side Harry at the same time into Diagon Alley so as not to draw suspicion.

Willing themselves to the beginnings of the Alley at the apparition point, the two began their trek to 183 Diagon Alley, close to the entrance of Knockturn Alley and sharing a side with Patrick's Prick Parlour, also known as Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio. At 5:57 a.m. exactly, both Remus and Harry entered the studio to find Sun Gao sitting in the lotus position on a bamboo mat wearing his simple grey clothes.

"Sun Gao," greeted Remus formally as he tipped his head in a small bow. "Harry has decided to start his training with you."

"Very well," spoke the aged Chinese man, "Chwen, please sit in the lotus formation on the mat. Lang, please leave us."

"But I thought Dumbledore said that…" however, Lupin was interrupted by Sun Gao.

"I mean you no disrespect Lang," began the Chinese man looking straight at Remus, "But Headmaster Dumbledore has explained to me that I only have a few weeks to train young Chwen. I have had to devise a whole new lesson plan based solely around him. I ask you to please respect this, I'm sure Dumbledore would rather have you brush up on some of your Russian for your upcoming mission."

Remus' mouth fell open because Sun Gao had just released that bit of information in a semi-public place. Harry just looked on in interest after realizing that after the summer, Remus would be leaving for an Order mission. Not knowing what to say, Remus acquiesced to Sun Gao's wishes and made his goodbyes and told Harry he expected him back at the flat that night by ten at the latest, with someone watching over him of course (though he didn't particularly tell Harry that outright), and to use the special disapparation method he taught him the day before.

"Chwen, Dumbledore has informed me that you will only be able to spend three weeks training with me before the school year starts." At Harry's nod, Sun Gao continued, "I found this to be quite unsatisfactory."

_Great, _thought Harry,_ First day and I already disappoint my future Professor._

"So I have decided to allow you in on a secret that I was saving for the school year. However, because of it's nature, I will have to have you sign a contract that will bind you from speaking about it, anything that I teach you, or anything that I might happen to tell you in confidence," and then he produced a scroll and presented it towards Harry. "Also note that if you break the contract, some disturbing events might take place."

Harry just stared at Sun Gao, _this sounds so much like the contract for the D.A. Dumbledore trusts him, but then again Dumbledore sometimes trusts too much. However, Moony trusts him, and if Moony trusts and respects him, then so will I. _With this conviction, Harry signed the document and handed it back to Sun Gao.

"Thank you," said Sun Gao as he folded up the paper and placed it in his robes. "Now I must tell you that if you are expecting an education that is acceptable by the Ministry's standards, you are quite wrong."

_That's a good thing, _Harry thought and nodded for Sun Gao to continue,_ look at what that idiot Fudge did to the school last year._

"And if you expect me to teach you in the way that Dumbledore would prefer, you are sadly mistaken also," said Sun Gao.

"_What?_" Harry couldn't help but to express his thoughts.

"Dumbledore prefers that school's Professors only teach in a way that magic that was learned would only be considered harmless. However, it is my plan to teach your class, specifically only your class Chwen, forms of magic and fighting that are seen as barely legal, and some of it will be complete illegal. I will not teach any of you the International Unforgivable Curses, and you will not cause each other harm in the class because I will set up a contract that you all will have to sign, just like the one you did, that will bond you all together as siblings." Sun Gao paused to see if Harry had any questions, and seeing none form on the teen's mouth, he continued. "There is more to the reason as to why I am doing this to your class; however, I will not reveal that until after your classmates sign the contract, and all will have to sign. You can not mention to them anything that you have learned here today, is that clear Chwen?"

"Yes, Sun Gao," responded Harry with a nod.

"I know it's a lot to take in," continued Sun Gao as he twirled his finger around his long goatee. "Perhaps I should teach you the way you will be learning in my class."

"Won't you be teaching like all other Professors do?" asked Harry, thoroughly confused.

"No, there are other ways to teach besides lecturing," stated Sun Gao, staring off as if looking straight through Harry. "I will only show you half of how I plan to teach you and your class later on. It is time for fieldtrip I believe."

With that, Sun Gao stood straight up from his lotus position and preceded to the door with a messy haired teen, who's only thought was what in the world was a field trip.

Five minutes of walking during the beginning of what appeared to be the usual bustling day at Diagon Alley, two figures stood at the origin of Knockturn Alley. Knockturn Alley, the place where one could find almost anything, was starting to slow from its usual peek trading hours, midnight to dawn. Many a wayward character could be seen throughout the dingy alley at this time, not all of which were human or part human. Reviled by most of the Wizarding community as the 'Dark Arts' Alley, Harry had only one question on his mind.

"Knockturn! You want to go into Knockturn Alley?"

"Yas," replied the aged Asian man as he stroked his goatee, taking the first step into the dark, dank and moldy alley. "It houses the teaching…aides I have bought for your class."

"But Knockturn Alley is the place that sells Dark Arts and…" Harry was interrupted as Sun Gao continued his walk down the alley.

"Chwen," began the soon to be Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, "You will find that though some shops might happen to sell rather…shady…items such as stolen cauldrons, Knockturn Alley is more like a second hand or discount store. The only part of this place that sells new items is Gladrags, which is across from the brothel, if you're interested."

Harry visible cringed at the thought of finding a brothel, let alone one in Knockturn Alley, interesting.

"Why is Gladrags here?" asked Harry. Sun Gao finally turned to his pupil with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, they sell respectable clothing and all."

"You will find, Chwen," replied Sun Gao while still walking into the depths of Knockturn Alley's fading night scene, "That Gladrags could not sell on Diagon Alley for a long time because most of their clothes are styled in a muggle-like manner."

"But Madame Malkin's just put out a muggle clothing line."

"Yas," replied Sun Gao. "So it seems it will be harder for Gladrags to move into Diagon Alley because they will be seen as copying the new trend of clothing, even though they started it off. Alas, they were too early for their time and now they sell exclusively in Kockturn Alley. Perhaps I will take you there today, you will need some proper exercise clothes."

Harry looked down at his slightly baggy muscle shirt that once was a tight t-shirt to a seven year old Dudley with the sleeves ripped off, and his loose baggy jogging pants that had a slight rip running down the right leg, another loaner from Dudley for their morning runs, and the purple-whitish boots that he had gotten from Hagrid, feeling as comfortable as any running shoe. Harry didn't think that these particular clothes looked _that_ bad, albeit a little worn out already (barring the boots).

"So what are we doing down here, sir?" replied Harry as he looked around at all the grumbling wizards passing by as he flattened his bangs against his forehead, hoping not to be noticed, _next time I'll remember to bring my invisibility cloak with me._

"As I said Chwen, getting the teaching aides I have bought for your class. Now please follow me into the store." Sun Gao walked into a grimy store that Harry could barely see through the windows of. He looked up at the signs and saw something that gave him a sense of nostalgia of a very unpleasant situation during his second year.

With his last thought on that memory, Harry walked through the doorway of Borgin & Burkes and saw that nothing had really changed since his last unwanted visit. The cabinet that he had hidden in when the Malfoy's entered was still in the same corner, and the hand with wicks at each finger tip stood next to the dusty skull of some poor soul. The place reeked of dark magic; however, the ministry still allowed it because it was 'collector's novelties' and not for actual use. _I doubt they know about Mr. Borgin's little storage fees for some _questionable_ materials of some prominent families,_ thought Harry as he made a beeline for Sun Gao at the front desk.

"Mr. Borgin, I placed an order with you a week ago in total confidence that the materials would be ready today," replied Sun Gao in a calm yet commanding voice.

"Mr. Gao, I was able to acquire fifteen of your wanted items," replied a nervous yet still oily Mr. Borgin. "However, I'm in hopes that the last two will be able to be…acquired…from their owner in no time."

Sun Gao gave a calculating look to show his paramount displeasure but acquiesced on the condition that he had them in a week's time.

"Oh most certainly sir," bowed Mr. Borgin. "Is this one of the students you are acquiring the material for?"

"Borgin," Sun Gao replied in a voice that made Mr. Borgin shrink a little smaller. "How you know my plans is beyond me; however, I will not let you speak to my pupils to pedal your wares. I have paid you more then sufficiently, so I ask you to forget any face that you might see with me."

"Oh most certainly sir," bowed Borgin again while he was wringing his hands with nervousness. "Perhaps there is some way for me to make up for my rudeness and indiscretion to you some how."

"Perchance that book that caught my interest last week might be able to find itself on sale?" indicated Sun Gao to the array of books behind the counter.

"Yes, yes. I do believe it is on sale Mr. Gao," replied Borgin as he pulled a dusty tome bound in worn brown leather. "I believe it is at fifty percent off."

Sun Gao just scowled slightly which caused Borgin to flinch and bobble the book around his hands.

"Sixty percent off?" asked Mr. Borgin trying to appease the aged Asian.

Sun Gao's eyes never left his scowl as he slowly sunk his right hand into the sleeve of his left. The movement did not go unnoticed by Mr. Borgin.

"SEVENTY-FIVE PERCENT OFF!" the obviously scared man yelled as he practically threw the book at Sun Gao. "Seventy-five percent off is a-a-a-a g-good deal Mr., Mr. Gao."

"Thank you Mr. Borgin, I believe that is the correct amount for the book," said Sun Gao as he placed a money bag the size of his hand on the counter. "And you will find that the money for the other fifteen items is in there also. Thank you and I'll be back next week expecting those other two items, or dare I say you won't like the consequences. Come Chwen."

With that Sun Gao took a brown wrapped package that Harry hadn't noticed before, shrunk it, and asked Harry to hold it and the book for him. They both then proceeded outside of the store, hearing the sigh of relief from Mr. Borgin.

"What was all that about?" Harry demanded, for it was not every day that he got to see his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher out right threaten shop owners, even if they did deal more with the darker of certain purchases.

"That, Chwen, was a man that only listens to fear and is compelled by greed," answered Sun Gao as they headed deeper in Knockturn Alley. All of the nightly customers were gone at this point and the alley was now filling with the witches and wizards that normally occupied the alley at this time of the morning.

"But, I mean, you didn't have to be so coarse with him," said Harry, fumbling around trying to find a comfortable way to hold the book.

"Yas, Chwen, I did," said Gao as he headed farther down the Alley. "For if I did not, I would not have paid the actually price of that book. Mr. Borgin, I learned, buys items and then sells them for a four hundred percent profit of what he bought them for. Quite outrageous I should say."

"How do you know this and what did you just buy from him?" asked Harry. "Because I happen to know that some of the things he sells are very obviously dark."

"Chwen, I assure you that nothing I bought at Borgin & Burkes is made with evil intent," replied Sun Gao, stopping in front of another store. "As to the other question, I will answer later. Please follow me once again."

Sun Gao entered the store and it took Harry a little over a minute to realize that his professor was no longer there. Looking behind him, which was a common occurrence to someone not used to Knockturn Alley, Harry caught sight of one of the most lewd displays he had ever seen in what had to be, obviously, a brothel. _If that's the brothel then this must be…_

Low and behold, Harry's educated guess was correct, based on what Sun Gao had said earlier, for the sign right above Harry's head read: Gladrags – Modern Clothier of Wizarding Kind, Sites Also In Paris and Hogsmeade.

Inside, Harry expected something similar to Madame Malkin's; robes and clothes on display with someone taking your measurements so that your clothes fit you perfectly. Harry was sorely mistaken once he stepped inside the shop. He saw racks of clothes hanging around on bars with the sizes denoted with signs on top. There were two other customers in the store besides Harry and Sun Gao, who he found admiring what appeared to be a Hawaiian shirt. Harry was a bit overwhelmed by everything around him and could not take it all in.

"Excuse me, sir, do you need any help?" asked a cute brown haired witch with a nose, lip, and eyebrow ring, with a small butterfly tattooed on her face that flapped its wings once in awhile.

"Sorry, it's just a bit…awe inspiring," said Harry, indicating the shop. "I mean, the branch in Hogsmeade looks nothing like this."

"Well sir, we do have to entice the masses," said the witch, "and since we attract more people from the eighteen to thirty-five year old age group, we have to cater to their wants, unlike the other stores that sell to their respective consumers."

"Makes sense I guess," said Harry. "Oh, and please don't call me sir, it makes me feel old, the name's Harry."

"Glad to make your acquaintance Harry," replied the witch as she shook his proffered hand. "My name's Olivia."

"Glad to meet you Olivia," said Harry. "But then again, who wouldn't be glad to meet a beauty such as yourself."

_Did I just effing say that!_ Harry thought as a blush started to creep onto his cheeks.

"I'm terribly sorry, that was very…" _truthful? _"Rude of me."

"Don't worry about it Harry," she replied with a coy smile on her face. "You would know if you offended me because you would be lying flat on your face."

Harry just smiled at her. As he felt the pressure of a hand on his shoulder, he looked up, and saw that Sun Gao had approached him.

"Harry, I wanted to show you the shop, but I also want you to pick out a proper work out uniform as well," the aged Asian man said as he played with his long goatee with his free hand, then started talking with Olivia. "I'm sorry Miss, but I believe my pupil's assessment of your beauty is quiet right and it seems to have also side tracked him a little. I'll make sure that he will be back for future visits without my presence."

_Kill joy_ thought Harry. After a hasty goodbye and being guided to a section of the store devoted to exercise clothes, he saw that the racks sported four sizes of each type of clothing; small, medium, large and extra-large. Harry looked at the teal sequins and gave an involuntary shudder. _Maybe they might have something a little more…subtle_ thought Harry as he searched the racks.

"Bingo!" Harry muttered as he pulled out a grey muscle shirt that had a neck protector built on it. It was hard on the outside, yet soft on the inside and felt slightly absorbent.

"Yas, Chwen," said Sun Gao nodding in approval. "You have made a very good choice. De Ironbelly scales that are melted down to a third for the outside layer will help for blunt impacts and minor slashing, both actions you will need to protect against. And since it is dragon scales, instead of pure hide, it will protect against small jinxes. However, a stunner will be able to pass it. Nevertheless, you have made a good choice. Try these also."

Sun Gao handed Harry a pair of navy blue swishy pants. Although similar to what Harry was already wearing, the magical properties added to the clothing made a big difference. Harry looked himself over in the changing room and noted that the pants seemed to have a cooling charm in them so as to prevent certain areas from getting uncomfortable, and similar to the muscle shirt, it had a sweat absorption material so as to diminish some of the scent from the wearer's body odor.

Harry brought his purchases to the front counter and paid a blonde haired guy that had a piercing attaching his nose to his ear and a chain trailing under his shirt collar to continue the attachment to who-knows-where. He noted that Sun Gao wasn't buying anything.

"Sir, why aren't you buying anything," asked Harry as he pressed his Gringotts' card to the proffered receipt.

"To bring you here to this shop was for the sole purpose of buying some clothes for today," replied Sun Gao as he was looking around at the other patrons.

"Sun Gao, why didn't you make me buy one of those monk things like you wear," asked Harry.

"This, Chwen, is a Shaolin Monk robe," said Sun Gao, touching his sleeve indicating the garb. "I wear it because it is comfortable to me, hence why I'm allowing you, and later on your class mates, to wear whatever it is they are comfortable working out in. My dress also throws off any would be opponents that might think I have limited myself to just the study of Kung Fu. When, in fact, my Kung Fu style of fighting is not as strong at my Jiu-Jitsu, Karate, Kick, and Shadow Boxing styles."

"Wow!" breathed Harry. "Just exactly how many styles of fighting do you know?"

Sun Gao's face broke into a smile looking at his young pupil and replied, "I know Aikido, An Ch'I, Arasake-Te, Bando, Bok Pai, Capeoria, Cha Chu'an, Cha Hsuin Men, Ch'in Na, Choi Li Fut, Escrima, Fong Ngan, Fu Chiao Pai, Goju Ryu, Gun Fu, Hashishin Style, Hsing-Yi Chuan, Hoppkido, Hwarang-Do, Ishin Ryu, Jeet Kun Do, Jitte, Kalari, Kaliope, Kendo, Kenpo, Krav Maga, Kobuiutsu, Koppo, Kuk Sool Won, Kuntao, Kuo-Chu'an, Kyokoshinkai, Lee Kwan Choo, Li-Chia, Mien-Chu'an, Moo Gi gong, Muay Thai, Null Boxing, Pakua, Pao Pat Mei, Panzer Faust, Panzer Kunst, Pentjak Silat, Sankukai, Sambo, Savate, Shao Lin, Sinanju, Snake style, Tai Chi Chuan, Taido, Tai Sing Pek Kwar, Tang Su, Te, Thamoc, Trash boxing, Tien-Hsueh Touch, Tsui Pa Hsien, Uechi Ryu, U-Ra-Do, Wai Wing Chun, Wudong, Wu Shu T'sung, Xing-Chiao, Yu-Sool, Zanji, and Shinjenken-Ryu."

Utterly confused with about half of the words Sun Gao just mentioned, Harry suddenly realized with awe that his new teacher really knew his stuff.

"A bit overwhelming, no?" asked Sun Gao, looking at his pupils' glazed eyes even though Harry nodded. He was so dazed that he didn't even realize that they had walked out of Knockturn Alley and all the way back into Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio before Sun Gao finished his laundry list of martial art knowledge. "Some of them I had to learn the hard way, particularly Jiu-Jitsu, Karate, Shadow Boxing, and Muay Thai. The others I learned the same way you will be learning this year."

"What way is that sir?" asked a slightly excited teen, as he considered the massive amount of knowledge Sun Gao must possess.

"If you take that package out from Mr. Borgin, you will find out Chwen," replied Sun Gao as he shifted a little, getting back into his lotus potion from early that morning.

Harry pulled out the brown wrapped package from his pocket, setting the bag of his new workout clothes to the side, with the leather bound book on top of them.

"_Finite_," said Harry as the package resized to be as big as a shoebox.

"Next time, Chwen, try whispering," said Sun Gao with his eyes closed.

Nodding, Harry took off the brown paper that wrapped the package and removed the lid to reveal fifteen artifacts of what looked like a wire cord in the shape of a 'Y'. On the two ends of the 'Y', there were clips, and the base connected to what looked like a needle. It was one of the weirdest things he had ever seen. As if answering Harry's unasked questioned, Sun Gao opened his eyes and picked up one of the items.

"This, Chwen, is a Neuroloader," he said, holding up the 'Y' shaped cord.

"A what?" asked Harry, still slightly confused.

"A Neuroloader," Sun Gao replied again. "It is an artifact that, when used properly, will speed up the learning process. The Start clasp is attached to the first page while the End clasp is placed at the end page of a desired book you wish to learn from. The Input needle is placed in the back of the neck where the neck and head meet so that the information is loaded into the cerebral cortex. This allows all the information to be processed, visualized and ultimately, learned. And this is how your class is going to learn from me this year."

"Sir, why aren't these used in regular classes?" asked Harry.

"Chwen, I want you to figure that out on your own. However, it is paramount that you tell no one, and I mean absolutely no one, about this," replied Sun Gao, suddenly looking very grave. "You might think this is the best way to learn, but there is one draw back from using a Neuroloader. It takes three seconds to processes each page; for a book of say, a thousand pages, it would take three thousand seconds, which equals fifty minutes. Those fifty minutes you will be completely oblivious to the outside world. If an unknown enemy were to see that you were completely out of consciousness due to a Neuroloader, they might walk up to you and murder you. That is why I will be controlling the Neuroloader usage in a controlled environment for your class."

"Sir, you keep on speaking about my class," said Harry. "What makes them so special that you are doing all this for us?"

"You will see Chwen," replied Sun Gao. "However, I cannot teach you to magically fight at this time. It would be too suspicious if you were to start having a repertoire of spells greater then that of some of your professors. I will make sure that everyone in the class Neuroloads all of their school books during the first week of school so that no one will be behind in school. To start your training, Chwen, I have two books I want you to Neuroload."

Harry instantly reached for the leather bound book that rested on his clothing. Sun Gao, however, pulled the book away and vanished it to somewhere out of immediate eyesight.

"Chwen, that book will be available later as an option to a select few in the class. Now is not the time for it." Silently, Sun Gao summoned two books from behind the curtained off door and handed them to Harry.

The books were simply titled _Aikido_ and _Karate_ with no author name on the covers. Harry looked up questioningly at Sun Gao.

"You may not be able to learn all the spells I want you to. However, you will learn several fighting styles. Remember in my letter how I told you to only use it for defensive purposes," and seeing Harry's nod, Sun Gao continued onwards. "That is because you are going to learn a lot of fighting styles faster then anyone normally should. I do not want anyone getting suspicious. Fortunately, European Wizarding ignorance will class most Martial arts as the same, so if anyone noticed any differential between fighting styles as of right now, I would be quiet impressed. Though I digress, Aikido is a purely defensive fighting style and the only one I wish for you to use incase of emergencies. Never show your full force so that your enemy always underestimates you."

Harry nodded and then asked Sun Gao if he could show him how to set up the Neuroloader, which the professor gladly did, making sure the Input needle didn't damage anything and only left a small puncture hole that was easily covered by Harry's messy black hair.

Information was being uploaded from the pages and downloaded straight into his brain. Though it only took three seconds per page for an upload and download, it felt like half an hour at least; for Harry was actually learning all of the knowledge. _It's like seeing a movie through someone else's_ _eyes,_ thought Harry as he was instructed through the Aikido moves with a residual self-image. Punch, kick, toss, twist, and dodge; Harry learned it all in what started to feel like hours but in truth was only minutes. When Harry had finished learning Aikido, Sun Gao plugged him into the Karate book and the process began all over again.

At 10: 57 a.m., Harry took out the Neuroloader once the Karate book had finished, and looked up to his new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who was smiling.

"How was it Chwen?" asked the aged Asian man.

"I know Karate," was all Harry could reply, barely understanding what had just happened.

"Go change up," ordered Sun Gao, "And show me."

Sun Gao called a halt to their sparring as it had just turned to 1:30 p.m. and neither of them had had anything to eat for the day yet. Panting heavily, Harry heaved himself next to the water cooler, gulping down the ice-cold water. Despite the extra workout sessions that Harry had been doing most of the summer, it was nothing compared to trying to spar against a wizened martial arts veteran.

"You may have a break for two and half hours Chwen," said Sun Gao as he marked the time on the clock. "I expect you to be well fed and rested when you come back, and please remember, just like the whole summer so far, Order member will be following you."

Not being able to say anything due to the massive breaths he was taking, Harry just nodded and stepped out into a really busy Diagon Alley. Luckily, a busy Diagon Alley meant less people were willing to notice you. Thus, Harry found himself walking around in the hope that his muscles wouldn't cramp up, while looking for some place to eat.

As he passed Gringotts on his way to the Leaky Cauldron for a meal he knew would be safe, the bronze doors of the bank opened wide with no apparent person leaving or entering the bank. Harry kept on walking to the Leaky Cauldron, dreaming about cold butterbeer and not noticing the crowd moving around a small being as he raced after the teen wizard.

Walking through the portal to the inn entirely unmolested by anyone, even the guard at the entrance of the portal, Harry made his way into to the Leaky Cauldron, and asked Tom for a private parlour so no one would disturb him. Sitting down, Harry checked his watch, and then remembered that it had been broken in his fourth year during the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He sighed deeply and slowly placed his forehead down on the cool tabletop.

His only thought,_ Sun Gao is an effing maniac, _replayed in his mind as he went over their most recent spar, trying to ignore the pain of the fast forming bruises on his arms.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter," said Tom as he knocked on the doorframe. "There is a goblin here to see you, should I let him in?"

"Is it Griphook?" sighed Harry from exhaustion.

"I believe he did call himself that, Mr. Potter," replied the Tom.

"Please, Tom, let him in and set up a setting for him too, please," requested Harry as he leaned back in his chair.

Harry ran his finger through his hair, causing all of his joints in his fingers and arm to crack at once. The door opened again and a slightly wheezing Griphook entered with his complexion pockmarked with green splotches that Harry could only suspected to be similar to a fluster from running after something. _Most likely me_ he thought to himself.

"Good afternoon Mr. Potter," greeted the goblin.

"Good afternoon Mr. Griphook," replied Harry then, indicating a seat next to him, asked, "Would you join me for lunch?"

"Thank you sir," replied the Griphook as he climbed onto the chair. "Because what I have to tell you will probably take a long time to explain."

"I trust it is something good that you have to explain to me," said Harry as Tom came back in to take their orders.

Harry nodded to Griphook to order first. "I would like the steak, char the outside but keep the inside purple raw, with some gillywater, please."

Harry raised his eyebrow at Griphook's order, _raw meat? Must be the culture_. "I would like the steak and kidney pie please, with a butterbeer served cold. Thank you, Tom."

Tom retreated to fill out their orders and the occupants resettled themselves.

"So, Mr. Griphook," began Harry in a cherry yet exhausted tone, "What news do you have for me?"

"Well Mr. Potter, first I would like to start off and tell you what has happened since you claimed the vault for the reward against the Minister," began Griphook as he folded his napkin on his lap. "As you know, I was put in charge of the vault in the eyes of the Goblin Nation. My superiors also saw fit for me to get a promotion for my good work in having the money taken away from ever reaching the Minister, and placed me in charge of your entire estate."

Harry nodded, "It seems reasonable, so you are now my banking advisor and handler?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter," answered Griphook, "That is if you will accept me."

"Of course Griphook, you are one of the few people I trust," replied Harry with a small smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," replied Griphook, again with that slight green twinge to his cheeks. "But as I began the position three days ago, I started to look at your estates paper work and what I found was most unexpected."

"Please continue, for I have no clue what it could be," replied Harry with a keen interest in what the goblin actually had to say.

"Well, Harry, what I found was complete disorder of all legal documents, which is something no one that I know of at Gringotts does with our clients. Legal papers were in wrong categories and crumpled up and some torn to shreds. I was shocked and appalled that one of my brethren could do something like that to anyone, let alone your account. As I have told you about you standing with the Goblin Nation, an inquiry was brought to the council of the British Gringotts Division. The former goblin in question was terminated from the banking system and will have to find work in metallurgy or some other of the goblin trades. But the main point is that he did admit to why he ransacked your files."

"Yes," prompted Harry, listening with rapt attention.

"It seems that when the Minister found out that the money for the reward vault was not readily available for him anymore, he paid off the goblin to make a mess of your legal papers," said Griphook with a saddened look in his eyes.

"Was anything taken?" asked Harry.

All Griphook did was nod as Tom served the food. Noticing Harry's sour face and Griphook's saddened eyes, Tom was a bit weary.

"Is everything fine Mr. Potter?" asked the bald and toothless innkeeper.

"No, Tom, I can't lie to you," said Harry, "But I believe I will be tons better when I sink my teeth into that scrumptious steak and kidney pie you serve here."

With a small smile showing some of his gummed mouth, Tom served them both and quickly left the parlour.

"What did they take Griphook?" asked Harry with a sigh then taking a sip from his butterbeer.

After Griphook took a sip from his gillywater to lubricate his dry vocal cords he began his tale again. "Mr. Potter, it's better to start with where it was they took it. Lots of money transferred hands during the time of the Dark Lord's first reign, as it did right afterwards due to deaths. The point is, that some Wizarding families lost sons and daughters during this time, thus making them heirless. Certain pureblood families' names were going to die, and they knew it. So in a last ditch effort, some families made children that they knew would survive to be their heirs. This entitled them to the family fortune, manor if one existed and anything else as such. After your defeat of Voldemort the first time, several pureblood families that had lost their children to Death Eater's or Voldemort himself proclaimed you as their heir in a legal binding doctrine. The money and deeds cannot be given back because the families do not exist. The only way to forfeit an inheritance of such is to prove that someone from the blood line still exists."

"Bloody Hell!" exclaimed Harry as he hit the table. "I have too much money, I was content with half of my original vault!"

"Sir, I'm sorry to bring this up with you," said Griphook as he began to get up and leave his client in peace.

"No, please stay Griphook," begged Harry as he pulled the goblin down by the shoulder. "I'm not upset at you, it's just…fate is what I'm upset against I guess."

"It's understandable sir. However, I find in my line of work people tend to want more money then not want it," replied Griphook, taking a sip of his gillywater.

"Again, as I have said before, I am not like most people," replied Harry. "Can you tell me what families entrusted me with all of this?"

"Certainly," replied Griphook as he took out a piece of parchment from his vest. "Lets see…the Meadows, the McKinnons, the Dearborns, the Fenwicks, the Babcocks and the Kings."

"_Six_ families!" Harry was astounded, not only because a few of those names sounded familiar, but because that meant he inherited six fortunes, and at this point in time he thought one was enough.

"And you still have the Potter inheritance that will be in full upon your seventeenth birthday and thusly becoming a legal adult."

"Bloody hell," mumbled Harry as he hit his head against the table. _Hey Potter, welcome to the life of the absurdly rich and famous_, "What's worse news?"

"Well it seems that around…a total of five million of the galleons combined out of each of the vaults' compound interest has disappeared and then reappeared on the same day…in the Minister's personal account."

Griphook quickly covered his ears as Harry screamed and let loose a fury the goblin had never seen in a human, swearing and insulting the Minister of Magic in both English and Gobbledegook as he kept on breaking and fixing his chair. After about ten or so minutes of letting his fury out this way did Harry settle down. Luckily Griphook saw something it coming and placed a goblin silencing charm on the door.

"How much is in the vaults, and do we have proof to nail Fudge on it?" was all Harry asked as he tried to go back to eating his steak and kidney pie though his hand was shaking wildly.

"There is documentation from the transfers that I was able to salvage that will incriminate Minister Fudge," replied Griphook and receiving a nod to continue. "And breaking the vaults down by family, the Meadows left roughly twelve million galleons, the McKinnons left thirteen point three million galleons, the Dearborns left seven million galleons, the Fenwicks left ten million galleons, the Babcocks left seventeen million galleons and the Kings left twenty-four point six million galleons, a total of eighty-three point nine million galleons. Added to the Potter vault, including the trust fund, of eleven million galleons with the two million from the reward vault, your total worth is at ninety-six point nine million galleons, in muggle currency that's four hundred eighty-four point five million pounds."

**_96,900,000 Galleons! £484,500,000. HAS THE WORLD GONE EFFING BARMY!_** _How could me, Harry Potter have all this money?_ Harry questioned himself as he started feeling faint and overwhelmed.

"Mr. Potter, there is the fact that Minister Fudge did take five million galleons from you," replied Griphook.

"He he!" laughed Harry breathlessly. "Let him keep it. It's not like I need it, but it's nice to have some leverage."

Griphook realizing what Harry just mentioned smiled, _I am really starting to like this wizard_, thought Griphook. Harry just cocked his head to the side slightly as if noticing something but then shook his head.

"So Griphook, what does one do when they are filthy rich?" asked Harry laughing a little insanely. _This is too much,_ thought Harry, _and I thought owning over two million galleons was a lot! _

"Well Mr. Potter, you seem to be the third richest person in Wizarding England, I believe seventh in all of Great Britain and her environs, in the top forty richest people of the Wizarding Europe, and undoubtedly in the top 100 in total of the Wizarding World. However I do believe you are one of the richest Bachelors, so I will be quiet weary in that end of the spectrum."

"Is there anyway I can hide this from the public?" asked Harry, searching for some desperate hope.

"Eventually they will find out, however I will be able to keep all of the money in its separate vaults so that connecting it all together would take some time," replied Griphook, "It is inevitable that the Wizarding Public will find out."

"Do I have to change my name to accommodate all of my inheritances?" _Ha ha, I _really _don't want to have to be Harry James Meadows-McKinnon-Dearborn-Fenwick-Babcock-King-Potter, you can barely even think it without laughing._

"Grendel no! I realize it would be a tedious task when someone has to add one, but you will not have to go by such a name," replied Griphook to a relieved Harry.

"What about stocks?" asked Harry.

"Now that you mention it, I was looking around in the stock market for you and I say that you should reinvest in Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, they are flying through the charts and you own twenty percent of it."

"Wait, I own twenty percent of WWW?" asked Harry, _I'm going to KILL those twins. Did I not tell them to do this?_

"Yes, if you want, I will have the other two owners meet with you," replied Griphook.

"I rather meet them on my own. Any business trying to start out that needs a lift up?" asked Harry.

"The one that caught my attention was a plan for a night club called Fairy Tails that is being spearheaded by Lee Jordan, who is a friend of the Weasley twins and is seeking some of their help on this venture. It's planned to take the place of Bertha's Brothel in Knocturn Alley…"

"Sold, calculate whatever you think would be enough to start off this venture for Lee and double it, I'll talk to him about it later on. I'm sorry Griphook, but I have to get back to my lessons," and with that, Harry stood up, pressing his Gringotts card to the receipt and then extending his hand to Griphook to shake. "I'm glad you're my advisor Griphook, and I hope the next time we talk it will only be of good circumstances."

"As do I, Harry, but what should I do about Minister Fudge?" asked the goblin.

"Send him a copy of the evidence with two words at the bottom: I Know," Harry smiled. "Wish I could see what his reaction would be like."

"As do I Mr. Potter, thank you for lunch, and I hope to see you with better news next time."

Harry left the Leaky Cauldron, making his way back to Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio to continue his lesson with Sun Gao.

The welcoming charm rang as Harry rushed back, arriving with only two minutes to spare. And yet Sun Gao was not there. Harry hunched over the front counter trying to catch his breath when something or someone kicked him in the back of his knee, sending him to the ground in a groan of pain just as he was put in a headlock.

"Chwen, never assume with just your eyesight," was all Sun Gao said, dispelling the invisibility charm as he started to step away from Harry.

"How was I supposed to know you could go invisible?" asked the teenager, getting back to his feet.

"How could you not? Never underestimate you enemy, or friend, for one can be both," said Sun Gao cryptically. "And you should know because you have seen me visible and then turn invisible."

"When?" asked Harry.

"When you first met me, Remus and I planed that little charade for you," replied Sun Gao as he dissected his first entrance. "First I cast a hover charm on my shoes so that they would not touch the ground, then I made myself invisible."

"What about the mist?" asked Harry.

"Obscuring mist charm. I charmed around my feet then around your heads as I disappeared and reappeared."

"So it was all faked?" asked a stunned Harry.

"What you see is not always truly how something might be, Chwen," replied the short Asian man.

"I feel so…" Harry began.

"Disappointed?" offered Sun Gao.

"I guess, it's just I thought I would be learning how to blend into mist or something."

"Part of your martial arts training will deal with a lot of stealth, and illusion charms will also play a big role," replied Sun Gao with a small smile. "So essentially, you will be able to disappear into the mists."

Harry just nodded resolutely; _I should read over the Illusion book from Tonks again_.

"Up until eight o'clock, I will teach you some useful magic, after that you are to go and have some fun before having to go back home. I suggest going back to Gladrags, but then again that's just me," he replied with another faint smile. "Okay wand out, you know the cutting curse?"

Harry nodded, it was one of the curses he taught the D.A. last year.

"This is slightly different, but similar to the cutting curse. It's the tearing hex and when used correctly will put a cut or tear though something. It's border-line legal because it was first used by newspaper companies, like the _Daily Prophet_, to cut the paper of issues. The incantation is _abrumpo_ and the wand motion is thus."

Sun Gao made a small diagonal slash and then a jab which sent out a maroon coloured jet that hit the wall making a diagonal gash as big as the wand slash originally made by Sun Gao.

"The bigger the slash you make," Sun Gao now repeated it except making a diagonal slash from his shoulder to his hip and jabbing his wand forward, making a longer, deeper gash in the wall, "the bigger the tear, and the harder you jab, the deeper it goes."

After making Harry try it and get it down to the usual standards seen in Hogwarts, Sun Gao then asked him to slowly say the incantation softer until Harry was barely muttering it for his own ears to hear. The power did not change as his voice got softer or silent as he was now tearing away at the wall without saying anything.

Sun Gao flicked his wand repairing the wall from the many attacks by Harry.

"Since I taught you how to cut, I should teach you a rudimentary healing charm. The incantation is _sano_ and when the tip glows white you drag it across the cut, depending on it's depth, the wound should heal leaving behind a faint scar line. Now I want us to practice these two spells exclusively today."

"You want me to cut myself sir?" asked Harry incredulously.

"No, Chwen, I will cut you and then you will heal yourself," replied Sun Gao. "Once you have healed yourself, you will cut me and I will heal myself and the process will continue as such till the end of class."

"Sir, that's around two hours," replied Harry.

"Yes, Chwen, I know," replied Sun Gao with a faint smile. "Consider this to also test your pain tolerance."

After two hours of continuously swapping the tearing hex and practicing the minor healing charm, Sun Gao felt that Harry had a good grasp on the two pieces of spell work. The teenage boy was able to produce the same effects with both spells whether he muttered it softly or yelled it out, which was far beyond then level at his schooling already. The aged Asian man couldn't help but feel proud of his student after their first day. _Perhaps the rest of the class will be similar to him?_ He mused to himself.

Harry shook his head, as if shaking a stray thought loose. Sun Gao figured that he had probably had enough for today, and fatigue might start to set in soon.

"Good job, Chwen," replied Sun Gao as he pocketed his wand in his sleeve. "You have done really well today. I think we shall call it a night. Same time tomorrow, try to run a metric mile before you see me. You will Neuroload two new fighting styles and practice all four that you know in a combination with me as well as some minor spell work. Remember, do not mention anything I have asked you not to, especially to Lang."

Harry nodded his understanding and began to collect his invisibility cloak to head home; _does Sun Gao really not trust Remus?_

"Chwen, you don't have to go home just yet," replied the Asian man as he lead Harry to the door. "You do have another two hours for some fun. Remember, it isn't a life unless you live a little."

Sun Gao then disappeared back into Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio, leaving a slightly confused raven hair teenager holding a silvery cloak in a still busy Diagon Alley. Harry was just recollecting all that had happened today; _never seem to have a boring day, eh Potter?_ he thought to himself. Continuing his walk, he abruptly stopped when he accidentally walked into someone.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, still slightly lost in his thoughts.

"Harry?" questioned the man that he walked into. "What are you doing here at this hour? Sorry, stupid question considering I'm out at this hour."

Harry finally looked up to see the toothy smile of his dorm mate Dean Thomas. "Hey Dean, what are you up to?"

"Nothing much, just came back from a date with Lavender," replied Dean. "Just so you don't start some rumours, there's nothing there, so we're just staying friends."

"Thomas," replied Harry clapping the tall teen on the shoulder, "you know that I'm not the one that spreads rumours. It's the filthy reporters that follow me."

"Speaking of reporters," said Dean as he stood a little higher and searched the crowd, "seems you lucked out today; thought they would be swarming to you like ladies swarm to me."

Harry just shook his head at his dorm mate. "Tell me though, if your date's finished, why aren't you going to the gateway?"

"Well…um..," stammered Dean as he played with the short black hair on the back of his head, "I wanted to check something out in one of the shops."

"Something or someone," asked Harry with a little bit of a twinkle in his eye.

"Bloody hell, Potter!" exclaimed Dean, hitting Harry's shoulder. "It's not like that. Truth be told, I've been looking for a magical tattoo artist."

"Oh," was the only reply Harry could think of. "Why you want one of those?"

"Harry, why did you want _two_ of them," was all Dean replied indicating Harry's bare shoulders. "When I saw them on you I thought they looked nice so I wanted to check out a set for myself. Maybe get West Ham written on my chest or something."

"I know the place for them," said Harry. "It's called Patrick's Prick Parlour on 182 Diagon Alley. Not that expensive, but the quality is super."

"Thank mate, I was just scoping out tonight to come back later on; I don't think it's the kind of thing to rush into," replied Dean. "Hey, you wanna know what, lets go to the TLC, grab some butterbeers and walk around London a bit. Should be an adventure, you might even meet a few of my brothers along the way."

"I dunno Dean," replied Harry.

"Harry we have been dorm mates for five years, going on six," said Dean, holding Harry's shoulder and facing him in the direction of the gateway to muggle London. "Your in no danger, especially if my brothers are out tonight."

"Okay, okay I'll go," said Harry. "Juts tell me two things: what the bloody hell is TLC and who are you brothers?"

"First one is simple, the only place you get tender, love and care of course, The Leaky Cauldron," replied Dean as the two teens headed down to the gateway, turning a few heads from several female teens. "And I never told you guys about my brothers?"

"Not me, you might have told the others for all I know," replied Harry as he unconsciously brushed his bangs over his scar.

"Blimey, sorry about that, I forget what I tell some people sometimes. Let's see, my eldest brother is Mark, he's 25, and then it's Paul, who's 23, then Ray at 22, then Christien at 19. I also have several sisters too; Lisa, who is 28, Monica, who's 24, and Diana at 18. I'm the youngest of the lot, but my brothers and sisters think it's only because my mother really loved my biological dad."

"What do you mean Dean," asked Harry slightly aghast as they entered the back entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

"That didn't sound right, sorry," replied Dean as he held the door open for Harry. "My mum loves all of us equally. But me and my _half_ brothers and sisters speculate that our mum fell head over heals for the man that was my father. She hasn't seriously dated anyone since."

"Oh, I'm sorry for putting you on the spot with a question like that," said Harry.

"No need to apologize, mate," replied Dean as they headed to the counter to get some butterbeer. "They're my family, you know? All I can do is love and cherish them. My mum will always be my mum. So you wanna meet some of my brothers tonight?"

"Sure, I'm always interested in my friends' families," Harry said. "Be careful though, I have a tendency to steal them, especially the sisters. I'll get the beers."

"You stay away from my sister's Potter, most of them are too mature for you anyway," Harry just snorted as he placed an order for a six-pack of butterbeers. "Harry, it's not like I don't have my own money you know."

"Dean, trust me, I can spare the expenses," replied Harry as he pressed his card to the receipt, thinking about the meeting he had in the inn not even six hours ago. "Not to mention you should save your money to buy a gift for Lavender."

"Oi, I told you it's not like that!" said Dean as the two walked out of the Leaky Cauldron into the beginning dusk that would soon turn to night.

"So, Dean, where are we off to?" asked Harry as he popped the tops of two butterbeers and handed one to Dean. "I mean, I'm still knew in town and know nothing, save Diagon Alley."

"If we head to the African Centre on King Street, I'm sure we'll pass one of my brothers, sometimes they work together."

"What do your brothers do?" asked Harry as he took a swig.

That's when Dean seemed to get a bit hesitant. "You promise not to tell anyone, special another wizard or a bobby?"

_Okay, something is up_, "Sure Dean, I promise." Harry said taking another pull.

"I trust you, Harry, to keep this a secret, but my brothers work on the underground."

Harry laughed a bit, "Dean there is nothing to be nervous about if your brothers work on the carts."

"Carts? Your thinking the sub aren't you," Dean just shook his head as he took another pull. "No Harry, they don't work there. They work on the underground as in black market, and such, like Dung Fletcher."

"So Parviti was right!" exclaimed Harry without even thinking.

"Parviti, right about what Harry?" asked Dean.

"Never mind, it shouldn't be talked about in the open," replied Harry as he looked around the slightly thinned streets. "I mean, someone could overhear us."

Dean stopped dead in front of Harry and turned around and looked at him. "Harry, we're in the middle of bloody London and no one knows we're here. I doubt someone is spying."

"You never know Dean," replied Harry slightly paranoid.

"Just tell me what Parviti said that didn't involve raunchy details okay?"

"At the Party three days ago, she mentioned something about all of the D.A. members families being part of the Order. I think you know which one I'm speaking of. Dean is it true?"

"Yes Harry, it is," replied Dean looking slightly grave at the talk of the new Wizarding war. "Dumbledore informed my family on how I was a high target, and asked them if they could be a major help for him as a go between from the magical to street muggle. The only reason my family has agreed is so that they have a part to play in a war that I'm involved in."

"Dumbledore asked every family of every student on that list. I only heard of two families that declined, the Corners and the Smiths. But everyone else went fully onboard and joined the Order."

"Currently my brothers are watching out for any dark happening in London, and since they already roam the streets and pick up odd news from people, everything seems normal. Seamus' mum right now is abroad with this bloke named McLaggan, in Ireland. They're trying to get more help from our close neighbors, though the goal there looks bleak. From what I gather, Paraviti's father is doing something similar in India, as are the Changs for China, and the Goldstiens with some of their family in Israel. That's all I really know from personally meeting these people and them telling me. This war is going to be a bloody mess," finished Dean as he downed the remainder of his bottle. "Care to hook me up with another?"

"Sure, here you go," Harry tossed Dean another butterbeer and thought, _when is there ever a clean war_, before busting out his second butterbeer also as they crossed onto Litch Street. "Let's talk about something a tad more happier eh?"

"Sure, mate," said Dean taking a swig. "Who was the last girl you went on a date with?"

"I thought I asked to talk about something happy?" replied Harry taking another swig. "But if you must know, it was a horrible event at Madame Puddifoot's with Cho Chang."

"You went out with Chang?" asked Dean as he gave a low whistle. "She's considered one of the better looking girls at school."

"Yes, Dean, I know," replied Harry taking another swig. "But she doesn't look that good crying."

"You were that bad?" asked Dean.

"What? No, no, no," replied Harry. "It's not like that. She wished I was someone I wasn't or something like that. In fact, I've never…"

"Hit it?" asked Dean, and seeing Harry's slightly embarrassed nod, "Don't worry about it mate, I'm just a little surprised that you haven't yet, considering the fame thing."

"Yeah the fame thing," was Harry's only reply, as he took another swig. "Let's not talk about the fame thing."

"Alright mate," replied Dean as he took another swig, both walking down Garrick St. in silence that was only broken by Harry.

"Dean, what did you want to do before you went to Hogwarts?"

"Why you want to know," asked Dean.

"I dunno, I was just thinking about how life would be different if there was no magic." In truth, Harry had been thinking a lot about it. Determined as he might be for the sake of the Prophecy, _I just wonder if my life would have been better…_

"I hear what you mean, I find my self wondering that at times too," replied Dean taking another swig. "I actually knew what my future was going to be at age ten and half. You know how I love football so much, particularly West Ham. Well anyway, I was considered a phenomenon on the field. I could run a metric mile in five minutes, that's one kilometer ever thirty seconds. It seemed damn near impossible when you heard about it, but then people saw it. I was going to be a football player, everyone knew it, because not only did I have fast feet, great reflexes, but my control of the ball was similar to what everyone else thought, damn near impossible."

"What happened to the dream?" asked Harry as he handed out the last butterbeer to Dean, having already started his last.

"I got my Hogwarts letter and a visit by some representative of the Ministry of Magic to tell my family about the Wizarding World. Wizards and Witches can't compete or play for muggle sports because we could use performance-enhancing potions that the muggles couldn't detect, they said. Also, they said that my speed and everything was due to accidental magic finding a release. Bollocks, I say, they just wanted to destroy a boy's dream," finished Dean as he took an angry swig.

Harry just patted Dean on the shoulder as they turned onto King Street, "Tommy boys!" Dean bellowed out, only taking a few minutes for four men to come out of a single alleyway, all with smiles on their faces.

"Lil' bro, how's it going," asked what looked like the oldest brother, who was at least 6' 5" with short cropped black hair that was as dark as his skin. He playfully ruffled Dean's hair and asked, "What brings you here around this hour of night, and who's he?"

"He would be Harry, a friend and dorm mate from school," replied Dean. "We met in Diagon Alley and I convinced him to come and see you lot. However, we best make sure he doesn't catch sight of our sisters."

"Right you are," added another one of Deans brothers, who had a coffee and cream-colored skin and slightly Asian features. "I think even Diana would be hard up not to notice him."

The Thomas brothers laughed at the family joke that Harry didn't really understand to well.

"Where are my manners?" asked Dean.

"You had some to begin with?" asked the oldest looking brother.

"Sod off you!" replied Dean pushing his eldest brother. "Okay, that there is Mark, though he might be 25, he acts like a twelve year old."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Harry," replied the 6' 5" tall man that had first talked to Dean, who was obviously Mark. Harry nodded, and shook hands with Dean's eldest..

"This here," said Dean, patting the 5' 8", lighter coloured, man that looked to have some Asian ancestors, "is Paul. He's pretty much the wise guy of the group."

"Hey, fah-get about it," replied Paul in what apparently was his try at sound like a Mafioso.

"This," Dean pointed to a muscle bound, light skinned man of about six feet, "is Ray. He's the strong silent type, really seems to get the girls, and is sort of the muscle of this motley crew."

"Please little brother, don't compare use to _that_ band," replied Paul, "Except if your referring to Tommy Lee, that bloke is the man."

"I said motley crew, not Mötley Crüe!" replied Dean, "Anyway, this one here is Christien, and he is the minister of the family."

"H'salaam alechem," greeted Christien, who seemed to be a smaller version of Mark in physical appearance.

After all the pleasantries were exchanged, the brothers invited Harry for a late night meal.

"Normally, we eat at home, but we have an important meeting with someone at ten thirty," said Mark as the group walked to The Stand to find a place to eat. "So tell us a bit about Hogwarts. We've heard stories from Dean, though some seem far fetched to us. Did you really kill a giant poisonous snake?"

"Well, I don't really like to brag or talk about all my 'adventures' as you put it," replied Harry, but upon seeing the down fallen face of Dean's brothers, along with the small amount of alcohol running through his blood from the butterbeers, "oh alright. It was a giant snake, with poisonous fangs, tough armour-like skin and the most dangerous part of all were its eyes…"

Harry proceeded to tell some of the stories. Granted, some editing was done so that the Thomas brothers, who had never met Ginny, wouldn't think badly of her. Harry mostly stuck with the bare facts, never exaggerating his story, for what would be the point? All that Harry had accomplished already at his young age mesmerized the Thomas brothers, including Dean. They talked, ate, and got to know each other a bit better. Harry was glad to know that the brothers carried around some protection in the form of knives, just in case a wizard were to spot them as Order members.

Everything was going fine till Harry looked up at the clock and realized it was ten fifteen. _Remus wanted me home fifteen minutes ago_, Harry thought to himself.

"Bugger!" exclaimed Paul, "Sorry guys but we have to go, the meeting and all."

"I have to go to, or more the point I should have been back fifteen minutes ago," said Harry.

"Do you have one of those Keyport things?" asked Mark.

"Portkeys?" asked Harry remembering the how Remus taught him to disapparate without a sound yesterday. "Yeah."

"Go in the water closet and use it," said Mark "Christien, can you make sure Dean gets home alright?"

"Sure, bro," replied Christien as he was gathering his coat and letting Harry out of the booth. "You sure you don't need the extra man tonight?"

"Positive, should just be some simple information," replied Mark, getting out from the booth so Dean could get out.

"You know I don't need a body guard to go home right?" asked Dean, feeling slightly peeved to be treated as the little brother.

"Dean, it's dangerous out there, please just listen to us," asked Mark.

"Fine," replied Dean as he put on his coat. "See you around Harry."

After exchanging good-byes and good-lucks with everyone, Harry stepped into the water closet, making sure no one saw him. He took out his wand, certain that no ministry official would notice and report him, and cast a silencio charm around the area he was in. Any sound made on the inside of the water closet would not be heard from the outside, including the crack of the apparition, or in this case disapparition. Willing himself to the welcoming hall of the Dog House, Harry was greeted by a distraught Moony and Dumbledore.

"Where have you been asked?" asked Remus right away, checking to make sure that Harry was all in one piece.

"I met Dean in Diagon Alley, and his brothers and I were having a late meal together," said Harry. "What happened? Was there an attack?"

"Harry, please sit down," said Dumbledore who was already sitting in one of the couches.

_This must be bad_, thought Harry as he sat in the couch that was slightly turned to the lift. "What happened sir," asked Harry.

"We are uncertain how it happened or who committed the act, but our full resources are underway to find out," started the Headmaster.

"Sir, please just tell me," said Harry, his thoughts of an attack on the Weasleys, on Hermione, Luna or Neville's families; either that or an attack on someone from his dorm, or year.

Just as Dumbledore was about to answer, there was a flash of flames and small piece of parchment fluttered into the outstretched hand of the Headmaster.

"He's conscious," was all the Headmaster said, reading the note out loud.

"Sir," snapped Harry. "Can you tell me something, please?"

"Harry, during a patrol in Little Whinging today, a police officer stumbled upon an extremely battered form that was unconscious," replied the Headmaster, and seeing Harry's nod, he continued. "Upon inspection and bringing the person to the hospital, his identity was confirmed through his student i.d."

"Who was it," asked Harry. _Hogwarts doesn't have student i.d.s, only muggle schools do,_ and with that last thought, Harry knew who it was before the words left Dumbledore's mouth.

"Harry, your cousin, Dudley, was found in an alleyway beaten nearly to death," said Dumbledore. "We aren't suspecting Death Eaters, but we can never rule them out entirely. The note I just received informed me that he has regained consciousness, your aunt and uncle are already there with him."

"Take me to him," Harry stated firmly. Upon seeing that Dumbledore was going to protest, Harry added in a voice that if described as an order, would be a major understatement, "Now."

**

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****A/N:** Okay there you all go, a nice long chapter so quench all of your thirsts. 

I did incorporate a movie Idea from _The Matrix_ with the Neurloaders, but I tried to _tweak_ them into my own invention.

Griphook's news will play more important role later on.

Griphook's exclamation "Grendel, no!" is similar to that of Wizard's "Merlin!". And Grendel is obviously the monster from the Beowulf Chronicles.

Harry is really rich, as you can see, but not the richest person, can you guess who they are?

It is not good to be on the wrong side of Harry, specially now.

Dean's family is based on what JKR posted on her sight.

The people Harry hangs out with, I.E. friends, and D.A. are the popular and 'good' looking bunch at school. I'm trying to base this on JKR saying that there are 1,000 kids at Hogwarts, and having Harry and the people around him as the popular bunch, including Draco as his nemesis. I might have to work on this later.

Sun Gao's advice of 'nothing is as it always appears to be' is golden.

Sun Gao is full of surprises, teaching kids illegal curses to defend them selves oh _what_ a shame!

That's all I have for now. I'm entering my last few weeks of schooling, so writing and post will be a little more frequent, hopefully. Thanks for reading, and please review.


	6. Draco's Detour

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except the plot. Even the title of the story is not mine, for that fact, the title of this chapter is not mine either. Again, I own nothing, except the plot and the computer I type this fanfic on.

This is the beta'd version. Thank you very much, Nita, you are the best!

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By forfie 

Chapter 6.) Draco's Detour

After Harry quickly changed from his work out clothes into a pair of simple dark blue jeans, plain white shirt with his purplish white graphorn skin boots and brown leather jacket as it was fairly chilly at 10:45 p.m., the bespectacled, raven haired teenage stood in the welcoming hall with a somewhat worried Remus and a slightly disappointed Headmaster. _I might not like him that much, but Dudley is still family,_ thought Harry as he reached out for the portkey that took all three men to an alley behind East Surrey Hospital. They walked through the entrance of the hospital for visitors and day patients, Harry following Dumbledore, whom he now noticed had transfigured his clothing into casual grey slacks with a blue shirt and white English collar. Harry snorted, noticing that Dumbledore still kept his flair for colours and designs by the Union Jack printed tie that was around his neck. _At least he's better dressed then some other wizards_.

"Dudley was redirected here in route to your local hospital," said Dumbledore as he pressed the button for level E. "His condition was marked as serious, and as such they sought out the best trauma clinic in the area for his immediate treatment. Your aunt and uncle are there with him, as might be some police officers, just to warn you."

The lift was marked only with the sounds of the passing levels, until a light bell indicated that the trio of men had arrived at level E. Just as they stepped out of the lift, a detective, clearly marked by her i.d. badge, rushed past them to get into the lift before it left, muttering something about 'impossible teenage delinquents'. Dumbledore led the way down the hall, the same direction that the woman had ran from, until they were standing outside the doors to the Merrow Ward, which had two police officers standing guard outside of it.

They looked at Dumbledore, recognizing him from his earlier visit, and made no attempts to stop the men from further entrance. Harry took a deep breath as he stared at the off-white doors with the rectangular steel push panel that would open them. He looked back at Dumbledore and Remus, the latter of which put a hand on his shoulder, which gave him the courage to push open the door. _He's still family,_ thought Harry, _albeit one that beat me up for ten years, hated me for four and treated me with indifference that bordered amiability this past month_.

Harry heard the pacing feet of his uncle and the quiet sobs of his aunt before he actually saw them. As he stepped behind the curtain, Aunt Petunia gasped and Vernon stopped mid-step and snapped his head around to see who it was. Upon seeing that it was his nephew, his eyes narrowed and he approached Harry and whispered loud enough for only Harry to hear the hatred laced in his voice, "Outside, now!"

Upon going outside of the curtained area, with Dumbledore and Remus standing next to the doors, Harry turned to his Uncle. "Uncle Vernon…"

"Did you do this?" Vernon spat out point blank.

"No," replied Harry. "Uncle Vernon…"

"Was it…one of your…_kind_ that did this to him?" asked a man that was clearly looking for the name of the person or persons that did this to his son.

"I don't know," replied Harry. "Uncle Vernon, I…I…"

"What is it boy?" asked Vernon, who gave a glance into the enclosed area where his only son was lying, so close to death.

"How's Dudley?" asked Harry. _Bloody stupid question to ask Potter_, he thought to himself.

Vernon Dursley was baffled, which clearly showed with his repeating of Harry's question three times until he voiced what was really on his mind, "Why do you care?"

"As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, you are the last of my family," stated Harry coolly. "I have lost enough family as it is, and I'd rather not lose Dudley, as great a prat as he is occasionally. He was starting to get over the fact that I'm a wizard."

"He was close to death two hours ago. The doctors think his heart might have stopped once during the three hours he was left in that…that…alley," stated Vernon, his voice slightly shaking, and his eyes never leaving the white curtain that housed his son. "He's stable now, but a lot of damage was done; his nose was beaten until it broke and the bone showed, he's missing some teeth, he has a few cracked ribs, and his right leg is broken in three places. Dear Lord, he may never be able to walk properly again."

Vernon then began to do something Harry never thought he would ever see his uncle do: He began crying, "And that professor of yours…"

"Remus?" asked Harry automatically.

"No, Dumblebubble or something like that," replied Vernon as he heaved great breaths trying to stem his tears. "He said that because there are written records of Dudley's medical condition, they can't use…use…_your ability_ to help him. Something about an International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy or some rot."

"Uncle," said Harry, "I want to get the guys that did this to Dudley."

Vernon snorted at that, "And what can you do? You can't use your magic or you'll get expelled, and you can't fight physically except for the sparring my boy showed you."

"I can surprise you Uncle." _He must have really lost it,_ thought Harry_. I mean, he's even saying the words 'wizarding' and 'magic'_.

"And how are you going to get him to talk?" asked Vernon, fearful of having a spell being put on his son. "You're not going to use your…your…"

"No Uncle," replied Harry. "I just have a feeling that he might not want to mention some things around you, or a police officer."

"What can you get from my son that the detective couldn't?" asked Vernon as he walked behind Harry to the curtained area.

Harry pulled back the curtains, and actually got a good look at his cousin lying on the hospital bed. His right leg was in a cast and elevated, as was his left arm, and a bandage was wrapped around the top of his head that also covered his broken nose. The padded gauze had some red splotches caused by blood still seeping from his wounds. His bandages covered the majority of Dudley's face, except for his mouth, which hung open revealing six lost teeth and puffy lips. His torso was also wrapped tightly in a bandage. The only indication that Dudley was awake was his visible eye, which was entirely red and blood shot, except his blue iris and black pupil, which shone through in sharp contrast. Luckily, the multitude of IVs and drips must have supplied Dudley with some painkillers. Even though Harry had never been this bad off before, he knew it would be a serious amount of pain.

Aunt Petunia rose as Harry entered the room. "I think I'm going to go get some tea," she mumbled, wiping away some of her tears.

Harry looked at his Uncle, hoping he got the point. "I think I'll come with you, love," he replied, hoping that his nephew could at least do something for his son.

After both his uncle and aunt left, Harry looked at Dudley and the sad shape he was in. "Pity or gloating?" asked Dudley.

"'Scuse me?" asked Harry.

"Are you here to pity me or gloat that I got what I deserved for all those years of torturing you," asked Dudley, staring at Harry with his bright red eye with the shocking blue iris.

Taken aback slightly, Harry replied, "Neither."

"Then why are you here," asked Dudley.

"I'm here because I care for you, you prat," replied Harry. When Dudley tried to snort, a grimace broke across his face as he choked a little. "You're family, and I'm here to hear what happened and possibly do something about it."

"What can you do?" asked Dudley pointedly.

"Something the police wouldn't," replied Harry. "Justice, eye for an eye kind of thing, not to mention turning them over to the Bobbies afterward."

"Can you do that?" asked Dudley, actually thinking his cousin could do it, unlike his father.

"In a heart beat," replied Harry. "Just give me names and a location, but I want to hear what you were doing before you were attacked."

"What makes you think I'll tell you before that detective?"

"The simple fact that I won't tell your parents, and that no one but me will know," replied Harry.

"Fine," replied Dudley. "I'm only doing this because I want you to do two things for me…"

"Two things?"

"One of them you already said you would do." Harry nodded his understanding. "The other one is to pass on a message for me."

"A message?" asked Harry. "To whom?"

"Today, at three, I was supposed to meet Rachel Cobbler at the theatre," said Dudley.

"Is this the same Rachel that had the party?" asked Harry.

"Yes," replied Dudley. "Anyway, on the way there, I meet some unsavory characters…"

"Who?"

"The Gang," replied Dudley.

"Who the bloody hell is 'The Gang'?" asked Harry.

"Piers Polkiss, Dennis Govern, Malcolm Maddox and Gordon Sheffield," replied Dudley.

"Oh, _that _gang," replied Harry, thinking of Dudley's old friends. "At least there are some names."

"Long story short, they jumped me for reasons I don't know," replied Dudley. "I do know that they are most likely all at Malcolm's house because his parents are away on a 'second honeymoon'."

"Okay, that gives me a location," replied Harry. "What was the message?"

"Tell Rach that I'm sorry for missing the movie," Dudley sighed, and had a coughing fit because of it. "Give her an abbreviated version of what I told you, but please, leave out the names and such."

"No problem Dud," replied Harry as he was getting up to go. "I'll get those bastards."

"Harry," said Dudley, as his cousin was about to leave. "I don't know if they have weapons or not, but…be careful cousin."

Harry didn't reply but pushed past the curtains and walked straight into the chest of 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

"Where do you think you're going lad?" growled out the retired Auror.

Harry stared at the disfigured and scarred face, most notably the chunk missing from the nose, and the large electric blue eye that was staring straight through him. Moody shifted his good leg and walking staff a bit as his eye swirled around. There was only one thought running through Harry's head: _Bollocks!_

"What are you doing here profess…" Harry was interrupted.

"I never taught you a damn thing Potter," Moody motioned for Dumbledore and Remus to come down. "If you want to know, I was watching over the Dursleys for the Order. I ask again, where are you going, boy?"

"Nowhere," replied Harry as he saw Dumbledore and Remus make their way down the ward.

Making sure that Moody's eye didn't travel, Harry slowly flicked his wrist, which brought the tip of his wand into his hand. _I don't want to do this, but I have to get these bastards tonight_, thought Harry, as he slowly slid his wand into his hand. _Thank Merlin I read Moody's book_.

"I heard what you were saying in there lad," began Moody. "And I wouldn't think you would go on some reckless stunt like that. Did you read my Unofficial Auror Handbook? Basic Retaliation Techniques? Never walk into a situation you don't know anything about…or maybe you hold it to the same echelon as that of Elementary Wand Safety…."

As Lupin and Dumbledore were getting closer, Harry knew it was now or never. He interrupted Moody with, "Elementary Offensive Strategy, never lose the element of surprise."

Moody was shocked at Harry's remark, but was further shocked when Harry's wand was pressed to his hip as the boy muttered, "_Stupefy._"

Remus and Dumbledore saw Moody go down, neither of them thinking that Harry had stunned him since they could not see his wand, and rushed to their comrade's aid. Harry made a quick dash down the ward as he heard Dumbledore awaken the paranoid retired Auror. The Merrow Ward's doors closed behind him as he made a dash to the lifts. Upon reaching them, he ran right into detective he saw earlier, with both of them ending up on the floor.

"Sorry ma'am," he replied, helping her up.

"It's alright," she replied as she patted down her pantsuit.

"Are you the one working on the Dursley case?" asked Harry quickly.

"Yes, why?" she asked immediately. "Do you have any information?"

Harry stepped into the lift and pressed the down button, and as the doors were closing, he yelled out to her, "See me at midnight at the police station."

The detective tried to stop the doors from closing, hearing footsteps running toward the lifts along with a very curious systematic _clunk_ every other step. Once the doors closed, Harry looked around to see if there were any video cameras. Seeing none, he set up a silencing charm around himself and apparated to his room at number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

Exiting the house as fast as possible into the darkness of night, his wand placed back into his holster, Harry began the trek to Rachel Cobbler's house first. Remembering how to get to the Cobbler's on Magnolia Crescent took Harry longer then actually making it there. He surprised himself, having only traveled there once before, yet he remembered the house as though it was different from the row of carbon copy developments in the area. Standing in front of the white door, stretching out his hand to knock, Harry hesitated.

Nerves, his conscience, and a nagging Hermione-like voice, one thought rushed through his head: _What_ _the hell are you doing?_ _Too late now_, Harry told him self. He knocked on the door once, and was greeted by a woman in her late thirties with auburn hair, her face showing traces of 'laughing' lines. However, as of this moment, she was more narrowed eyed and scowling.

"Are you Dudley Dursley," she growled out.

Slightly taken aback, "No ma'am, I'm Harry," he replied. _Better not mention I'm Dudley's cousin._

"And what do you want?" she asked, her voice slightly brightening, though not much.

"I need to tell Rachel something," replied Harry.

"She's in no mood to speak to anyone," she replied, while Harry realized this must be Rachel's mother. "Tell me the message and I'll get it to her later."

"Mrs. Cobbler," said Harry, taking a big leap to gain some control. "What I have to tell her is important, private, and most likely will be something she will share with you later. However, she should hear it first before anyone else."

Mrs. Cobbler just stood in the door thinking it over, and with a sigh and sagging of her shoulders, she turned sideways and allowed Harry in. She grabbed his shoulder after he passed the threshold of the doorway.

"If you make her more upset then she already is…not even God will protect you from my wrath…."

Nodding, Harry bounded up the stairs and found the door that had to be Rachel's. It was closed, with soft sobs coming behind it. Harry knocked once.

"Go away mum!" Rachel yelled mid sob. "I don't want to talk."

"I'm sorry Rachel, but I'm not your mother," said Harry as he stood next to the door.

"Who…umm…Harold?" asked Rachel. Harry could hear her approaching the door.

"Close, it's Harry," he replied.

"What…are you doing here, Harry?" she asked, leaning against the door.

"Dudley sent me to tell you…"

"I don't want to hear it," she replied coolly. "If he had to send a messenger then it's not worth saying it."

"Rachel," Harry pleaded. _I definitely don't understand girls._ "It's the only option Dudley has."

"Why Harry?" she asked, her mood still icy.

"Well, it would be hard for him to get out of the hospital," replied Harry a little heatedly. _Jeez, the man's been beaten nearly to death. Give him a break!_ "And to walk on a leg that was broken in three places…"

Harry was stopped abruptly as Rachel opened the door and looked at him with puffy red eyes from crying, eyes filled with sadness and worry.

"What happened?" she asked.

Harry quickly informed her about how Dudley walked into the wrong end of a bad alley and didn't come out on top of it. He also told her that he was in the hospital, how he was doing and the condition he was in. She was sitting on her bed now, silent tears falling, holding her knees to her face as Harry sat in front of her on a rolling computer desk chair.

"I want to see him," she stated.

"I know, but visiting hours are over," replied Harry. "In fact, I wasn't even supposed to go and see him."

"Why did you?" she asked, without the tone that Vernon had used early.

"I can't tell you," replied Harry looking away. "It would make you an accomplice."

"Harry," she replied holding the sleeve of his leather jacket. "Don't do anything rash."

"I can't let them get off cleanly," he replied.

"Just turn them into the police," she said as Harry got up and placed the seat back next to the desk.

"I plan to," he replied. "In the same way the police found Dudley."

Rachel got up and hugged him, whispered 'thank you', and wished him luck and to be careful. He patted her back in return and told her that visiting Dudley tomorrow would really cheer him up. With that, Harry left the house, with Mrs. Cobbler smiling slightly as she ushered her girl into the kitchen for something to eat.

Harry walked to Malcolm Maddox's house at 6 Wisteria Walk. The only reason Harry knew the address so well, as he did for all of the kids that belonged to Dudley's old gang, was so that he could try and avoid being spotted by them so there were no random games of 'Harry hunting'. Walking passed #5, Harry saw the trashed lawn of #6 in the obvious aftermath of a tremendous party. Looking at the door, which was closed and most likely locked, he heard loud heavy music playing from the inside, along with the occasionally shriek of girlish laughter. Harry felt a cold jolt against his chest. Startled, he pulled out the augurey pendant that Seamus and his mother gave him.

…_augurey amulet that me mum charmed to go cold whenever a bad omen is present…_

_So this is what Seamus meant,_ thought Harry. _Let's hope his mother's charm work is better than Neville's potion making._

Harry peered through the window, taking Moody's advice for not walking into an unknown situation. Through the window he saw the rat faced Piers Polkiss lounging on a couch with a beer bottle in his heavily bandaged hand and his feet resting on the coffee table. Brutish Malcolm was sitting in an armchair, also with his hands heavily bandaged, with a girl curled up on his lap and her arms around his neck. Gordon, who looked exactly like Dudley did two years ago, was dancing with a girl, while Dennis was standing behind a makeshift bar, mixing drinks with a girl whose arms were wrapped around his waist.

_I hope the girls aren't a part of it_, thought Harry as he made his way to the front door, preparing to break it down.

_Crack!_

Harry ducked for cover, thinking that it was someone apparating in to stop him. He thought, _too soft for apparition…maybe a twig? That means someone is here…_

No sooner had the thought formed in his head then he heard a familiar slow, deep voice that was slightly drowned out from the loud music. _Kingsley_… Harry turned toward the voice and saw the tall, bald, clack Auror that had a single gold-hooped earring.

"Harry," started Kingsley.

"If the Order sent you to stop me…" said Harry, wand in hand after a flick of his wrist.

"Harry, I was watching the house when you came out," said Kingsley. "I watched it after Moody left to guard your relatives. Why are you here?"

"These bastards are the ones that put Dudley in the hospital," replied Harry, pointing his wand to the house.

"I understand," replied Kingsley. "I'm sure the others tried talking you out of this."

"You have no clue how many," said Harry.

"However, I won't," replied Shacklebolt. "Your father would have done the same thing, and in fact, I believe he did one time. I will only allow this on three conditions. One, you can't use magic."

"Wasn't planning to," replied Harry.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at that. "Two, don't kill anyone."

"I'd rather they live with the pain," muttered Harry as he sheathed his wand.

Kingsley's face betrayed his surprise. "Three, I will be your back up and pull you out if things get too rough."

"Any wise Auror advice?" asked Harry, grinning.

"No," replied Kingsley. "But some wise street advice; take out the biggest first, and watch out for weapons, and thank some deity that owning guns in England is illegal."

"Why are you allowing me to do this?" asked Harry, slightly uncertain.

"I've had to kick a few heads in during my younger years," replied Kingsley. "And some people deserve a beating. I heard the report of Dudley's condition."

"Do you know what time it is?" asked Harry.

"Time for you to get a watch, kiddo," replied Kingsley in his slow, deep voice as he looked at his wrist. "It's 11:18."

"Care to help me haul these guys to the police station later?" asked Harry.

"I can't make an appearance; Dumbledore and the Ministry would be mightily ticked off," replied Kingsley. "I can set you up a temporary portkey to the back alley of the police station though, just make sure to toss it afterwards."

"No problem," replied Harry, and after taking a deep breath, he faced the white door.

"Kiddo, try ringing," said Kingsley as he stepped into the shadows, and giving a slight wink, "Then kicking the door in."

Gordon Sheffield was enjoying his dance with this pretty girl that he met at Malcolm's party. The ring of the doorbell was barely heard over the loud music.

"If it's those neighbors again," sneered Piers. "Gordon, go answer the door!"

"Why do I have to?" grumbled Gordon.

"Because you're the only one standing, you idiot!" snapped Piers.

"Dennis is standing," grunted Gordon, his head tilting to the bar.

"He's doing something important," replied Piers coolly. "Like making us drinks, while your fat arse is moving in circles around that girl."

"Don't talk to Miranda like that," slurred Gordon.

"My names Samantha," replied the girl as she pulled away from Gordon.

"Sorry, love," replied Gordon. "It's the booze."

The doorbell was rung again.

"Lard face, answer the door!" ordered Piers.

"Fine," replied Gordon, muttering all the way about a scrawny, rat faced, double crossing bloke that couldn't get a girl if he had a hundred pound note hanging out of his zipper.

Little did Gordon know, Harry Potter, a former scrawny boy that he used to pick on, was standing on the other side of that door, and was quite angry at the moment. Once Gordon unlocked the door, it opened just a crack. Before he could properly open the door, Harry kicked with the sole of his graphorn boot full force, sending the door off its hinges, which hit Gordon and fell straight on him. Gordon, being the biggest of 'The Gang', was successfully pinned under the door, being rendered unconscious after the door slammed onto his head and body.

Harry stepped into the hallway amongst the rush of feet and screaming. He looked into the faces of his former tormentors, the ones that put his cousin in the hospital, the ones that went too far.

"Parties over!" yelled Harry, his eyes not leaving the remaining three boys. "I suggest that you girls go home. Now!"

Not needing to hear it twice, the three girls rushed out of the house as fast as possible, the one named Samantha trying to look at the crumpled form of Gordon under the door, some blood trickling from his nose.

Piers was the first to compose himself after seeing the door ripped off its hinges and the crumpled form of his friend. "Potter," he hissed.

"Piers," greeted Harry coldly. He pushed up the sleeves of his brown leather jacket. "You had a party and didn't invite me?"

Piers just sneered as Dennis and Malcolm got into a fighting stance. "We invited Dudley, but he couldn't make it."

Harry narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. "So you admit to your felony?"

"What felony?" asked Piers in a fake innocent voice as Dennis and Malcolm looked at each other.

"Why would four blokes like yourselves all have bandaged hands," replied Harry as he took a step forward. "On the same day that Dudley was beaten nearly to death?"

"What do you care, Potter?" asked Piers. "You hate your cousin, you're glad that we beat him up, aren't you?"

"I hated Dudley for a long time," replied Harry. "But he isn't that person anymore, nor will he ever be again. However, I will agree with you, I am glad you roughed him up, so that I can return the favor to you."

"You're out numbered three to one," Piers informed Harry with an evil laugh.

At that moment, Dennis swung a right hook that Harry turned away from, catching the boy's forearm in his hand and holding his other hand on Dennis's bicep. Pulling the arm in two directions and bending it at the elbow in the opposite way, Harry successfully caused Dennis to have a compound fracture to his ulna. In layman's terms, a bone in Dennis's forearm broke and ripped through the skin of his arm. Dennis was down for the count in excruciating pain.

Had Harry been paying more attention, he would have noticed that Malcolm lunged at the same time. Where Dennis failed to make contact, Malcolm succeeded, and punched Harry in his lower back, right over his kidney. Harry arched his back in pain as Piers hit him in the gut, causing Harry to kneel and double over to catch his breath.

Malcolm was about to slam his foot on Harry's exposed neck, but the raven haired teen rolled onto his back to get better access to air, and grabbed Malcolm's big foot. He twisted it hard and dislocated Malcolm's ankle, and sent a spiral fracture up his tibia. Harry pushed the screaming boy's foot upwards, throwing the big lump off balance so that he fell into the wall, his head hitting hard. Knocked unconscious, his foot flopped in an awkward position. _He's out for the count_, thought Harry, and turned his head to see Dennis still kneeling, holding his broken arm and crying.

Piers, seeing his chance, tried to kick Harry in the head. Missing the head, he was able to land a hard kick to Harry's right shoulder. _Bugger!_ Thought Harry as he felt the impact on his shoulder, even though the leather jacket cushioned it somewhat.

"Get up you freak!" yelled Piers while kicking Harry in the shoulder again.

Harry managed to get to his knees, even with Piers still kicking him. Slowly getting to his feet, Harry pushed Piers away so that he could collect himself somewhat.

"Didn't your dad ever teach you not to kick a man when he's down?" grunted Harry, still wincing after being kicked several times.

"My dad taught me more then yours did, orphan!" yelled Piers.

Harry narrowed his eyes. _First this little blither beats up Dudley, then kicks me when I'm down, now he jibes about my dead dad. How many places was Dudley's leg broken in? Oh yea, three...I'll give Piers one more for good luck._

In that moment, Piers did the stupidest thing he ever did the whole evening, and threw a punch at Harry instead of running away. Harry grabbed onto Polkiss' wrist, and stomped his foot onto the boy's ankle, effectively breaking it. Once all his weight fell on the broken ankle, his foot turned on its side. Harry viciously kicked again into the side of Piers' calf, causing another compound fracture, as both shin bones split through the skin to the side. Piers, somehow still standing, lowered his weight onto the broken segment of his leg and screamed out again. This time Harry kicked the side of Pier's knee, successfully tearing muscle, ligaments, and nerves, and breaking the kneecap. Piers would have to use a cane for the rest of his life.

Pier's was sobbing uncontrollably as he lay on the floor. "Enough!" he screamed, unable to stand any more pain. "I'll talk…p-p-p-please, j-j-just st-st-stop!"

Harry looked at Piers' mangled leg and felt an instant pang of remorse. _Stop it Potter_, he told himself, _if you're going to have to be a killer later on, this should be the least of your regrets!_ Harry picked up Piers and tossed him into the wall beside the unconscious form of Malcolm, then turned his back to the blubbering form of Dennis. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at Polkiss, hissing one word.

"Talk."

"O-o-okay…" stammered Piers, "We, we, we d-d-didn't…"

Harry interrupted him as he touched the bone protruding from the side of his shin. "Take a deep breath and calm down, then talk, or you will be treated with another dose of pain."

"Easy for you to say Potter," snapped Piers. "You didn't have your leg broken in three places!"

"No," answered Harry, his voice cold as ice. Looking Piers in the eye, "No I didn't, but you did break Dudley's leg in three, I just returned the favour."

Piers shuddered and took three deep breaths. "As I was saying, we didn't want to beat up Dudley, he's a good guy, and even though he left our group, he didn't talk against us."

Harry nodded. "Then why did you?"

"We were approached by a man," replied Piers.

"What did he look like?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," evaded Piers, but seeing Harry reach for his exposed bone, he quickly added, "We couldn't…he was wearing…a-a-a cloak of some kind, a black one, we couldn't see his face."

Not knowing why, Harry knew that Piers was telling the truth, so he withdrew his hand. "Did he have a name?"

"Yes," replied Piers. "One of the weirdest ones I've ever heard, Poliakoff, that's it."

"You sure?" asked Harry.

"Positive," replied Piers. Harry believed it.

"What did he want?" asked Harry.

"He wanted us to beat up Big D," replied Piers, still using Dudley's group nickname. "We said no at first, then he offered us fifty grand and two blocks of pure white. How could we refuse, pure white is about one million a kilo on the street."

"What the hell is pure white?" questioned Harry.

"Pure white, you don't know what it is?" asked Piers, and seeing Harry shake his head and reach for his exposed facture again, offered, "Cocaine, pure white is cocaine."

"You're a peddler?" growled Harry.

"You got to make a living somehow," replied Piers before getting back handed by Harry.

"And who do you sell too? Little kids like Mark Evans?" yelled Harry, who was livid by this time. "You disgust me," he spat vehemently.

"Quite acting the saint, you'll get in trouble for what you did here!" sneered Piers.

"Not as much trouble as you for attempted murder, distributing, and possession," replied Harry.

"Who said it's here?" asked Piers.

Harry reached down to Piers' bone and holding it tightly, moved it around. "Where is it?" inquired Harry between Piers' screams.

"It's in the house!" yelled Piers breathlessly as Harry let go of his leg. "It's in the cupboard. But you won't be alive to do anything about it!"

Harry looked at Piers. "What do you mean…" he trailed off as he felt something sharp enter his left shoulder. Gasping inwardly, Harry turned around to see Dennis standing behind him, holding his arm and grinning as Harry felt the hilt of a letter opener sticking out of his shoulder.

Blood dripped down his back and sleeve and soaked into his white shirt, staining it. Narrowing his eyes at Dennis, Harry ignored the majority of the pain in his injured shoulder and thrust his flat palm straight into the boy's sternum. The impact of Harry's hand threw Dennis backwards off his feet, causing him to hit the wall and fall face forward onto the fallen door, which was still on top of an unconscious Gordon. However, this time, Dennis joined his two other friends into unconsciousness.

Harry turned to look at the rat face of Piers Polkiss, seeing the rat face of Peter Pettigrew for brief second. Holding his left arm close to his body while blood was still dripping from his sleeve and back, Harry punched Piers right in the nose, effectively breaking it and making the fink's head hit against the wall hard, rendering him as unconscious as his fellow gang members.

Harry reached up to his left shoulder and pulled out the letter opener that was supposed to be a mini-Excalibur. Tossing it to the ground, Harry walked to the cupboard, a trickle of blood still slowly falling down his leather jacket sleeve, his white shirt becoming redder from the point of the cut. Opening the cupboard and pulling out the two bricks of white powder wrapped in plastic, he placed them with the bodies of the unconscious boys.

Harry stepped out side, as Kingsley stepped out of the shadows, and they looked at each other and nodded. Kingsley came over, flicking out his wand.

"Harry, are you hurt?" he asked right away.

"Just a scratch," replied Harry, as he ushered Kingsley inside.

Kingsley let out a low whistle seeing the four unconscious boys with random limbs at odd angles. Then he noticed the two blocks of white powder.

"Is that cocaine?" asked Kingsley.

"That's what Piers said before I knocked him out," replied Harry.

"Jeez, kiddo, I knew you were good with a wand, but this is just…" Kingsley let the statement die.

"Kingsley, do you think you might be able to heal my shoulder?" asked Harry.

"Basic Auror medical training," replied Kingsley. "If it's not too bad, I should be able to. Take off your jacket."

Harry gingerly removed his leather jacket, showing his blood soaked back and sleeve.

"Great Merlin!" proclaimed Kingsley as he looked at the wound. "That's no scratch. I can mend it somewhat and bandage it, but going to St. Mungo's might be the best option."

"Time?" asked Harry.

"11:49," replied Kingsley.

"No time for Mungo's," said Harry. "Try your best please."

"Okay, kiddo," replied Kingsley. "_Resarcio_."

Kingsley dragged his wand tip across the wound, and Harry felt like an iron poker was being dragged across his skin. He gritted his teeth and gripped his jacket hard.

After Kingsley cauterized the wound, leaving a burn that would look like a melted scar, which he informed Harry of, he conjured some bandages and put a cooling charm on them to sooth the burn.

"All right kiddo?" he asked again.

"Yeah Kingsley, thanks mate," replied Harry.

"It's 11:57, the portkey goes off at 11:59," replied Kingsley, handing Harry a length of rope. "Tie it to them, and hold the bricks, and everything should be find. I have to go and pretend I was never here. Night Harry."

"Take care Kingsley," replied Harry, shaking his hand. "And thanks."

"No problem kiddo, hope the rest of your night is better," and with a wink, Kingsley Shacklebolt apparated away.

At 11:59:01 p.m., Harry Potter and four other travelers arrived in a side alley next to Little Whinging Police Station. Exhausted from his first day of training still, not to mention the fight he was recently in, Harry had no clue how he was going to be able to drag four boys that had to have weighed more than 30 stone total to the front of the police station in a minute and a half. Then remembering what Dean said about accidental magic finding a release, Harry dismissed the idea.

At 12:05, the detective that he ran into earlier today stepped through the doors to see Harry sitting on pile of human bodies with two bags of cocaine at his feet. Harry saw the shock in her face.

"Who…what…where?" she stopped talking and looked at Harry.

"First, I think I should introduce myself," said Harry, standing up to shake her hand. "Harry James Potter, cousin of Dudley Dursley."

"Detective Zoë Lestrade," she offered. "And who are these…people?"

"These," Harry said giving a kick to the pile of people, "Are the blithers that put my cousin in the hospital. They tried to put me in a bed next to him, but I couldn't have that, now could I? It was a text book standard case of self-defense."

Zoë was impressed with this young man, but still needed him to give a statement.

"Let me go get some people to take them inside, stay right here!" she said before rushing in to get several officers to haul the broken bodies of Piers, Dennis, Gordon and Malcolm into the police station. Harry gave his statements, and collaborated it based on passed records of some of the group. She had a male police officer assess Harry for any physical damage, of which the report was slightly odd. After all the information was compiled, along with blood samples from all five people, and the transport for the four boys with a police guard, Lestrade sat Harry down for a talk, off the record.

"This is bloody amazing," she breathed just staring over the notes of the case. "I just don't understand how you, no offense, could take on four guys like that in self defense."

"Not to give myself a big head Detective, but I know Aikido and Karate," replied Harry. _The fact that I learnt them today doesn't need to be shared_. "So that can explain some of these injuries I inflicted in self defense." _Except for Piers' leg and that bloke under the door_.

"Okay," said Lestrade making a note. "But I still don't understand this about your wound…"

"One of those bastar…sorry," blushed Harry. "One of those blokes, named Dennis I think, stabbed me in the shoulder. After I knocked him unconscious, I heated the metal letter opener, the same one he used to stab me, on the oven, and then I cauterized the wound closed; it's a scar that's well earned."

"Okay. I'll keep a look out for an individual named Poliakoff, shouldn't be too hard to find," stated Zoë, and then looked at Harry with a grave expression. "But off the record, this vigilante stuff can't happen again Mr. Potter. There is a reason why there are people out there with badges."

"I would apologize," replied Harry. "But they messed with the last of my family; I don't take to kindly to that, and they also attacked me, albeit I did provoke them a bit"--at this Zoë snorted—"not to mention you look cute when you're angry."

"Are you flirting with me," asked a disbelieving Detective, aged 32.

"Definitely not Detective Lestrade," replied Harry, wincing as he leaned back. "Just telling the truth."

_Great Merlin! Why am I saying this stuff?_ Thought Harry. _Sure she's pretty but she could be my mum! Urgh…_

Detective Lestrade raised an eyebrow at the raven haired, green-eyed teenage boy just as a fellow police officer opened her office door.

"He'll be here in five minutes," was all the Bobbie said before he disappeared.

Harry turned to Detective Lestrade, "Who'll be here in fifteen minutes?"

"Your godfather," replied Lestrade. But seeing the shocked expression on the boy's face, she inquired, "Is that okay?"

_Sirius_. Thought Harry. _No, Sirius is gone_. "Umm…yea, no problem."

"I met him earlier tonight at the hospital," she continued. "He seemed very worried about where you were going, so he gave me his number in case you turned up here. Guess your godfather is a smart man."

"Yes," said Harry slowly. _Lupin, it's got to be Lupin. Please let it be Remus. _

Ten minutes later, after being signed out by Moony, Harry and Remus entered the orange 1960's Volkswagen Baja Bug and were speeding off to the London flat. Uneasy silence was the ambience of the car till they were half way home. Remus sighed heavily.

"Why?" he asked in a defeated tone.

"I had to," replied Harry. "It was the right thing to do, and it was justice."

"That wasn't justice Harry," replied Remus shaking his head. "I know you normally don't go looking for trouble, it has a habit of finding you, but why?"

"What do you know," snapped Harry. "Don't play so innocent, I'm sure you've killed dozens of Death Eaters, how else can you still be alive?"

Remus pulled the car over to the break down lane and turned on the emergency flashers. He turned to look at Harry, both still wearing their seatbelts, Remus with a heavy face.

"How did you feel after you beat those boys senseless?" asked Remus.

"Justified, they put Dudley into the hospital," said Harry, angry at Moony's calm tone. "Not to mention they were peddling drugs to kids. Kids, Remus, lives were being destroyed by them!"

"So you should destroy their lives?" asked Remus.

"Mine already has been!" replied Harry. _Prophecy_ was his only thought, and then realization kicked in. "I didn't know anything truthful about my parents till my eleven birthday, and then I'm thrown into this effed up world. Why shouldn't I see that some people get justice? I never saw it before. Never."

"You've had a hard life Harry," replied Lupin sadly. "And I wish I could have helped you earlier."

"Where were you?" asked Harry, his throat starting to tighten. "Where?"

Remus bit his lip before trying to turn the keys to start the ignition. "I don't want to talk about it."

Harry pulled the keys out of the ignition. "Tell me."

"You don't want to know Harry," sighed Remus as memories of his past rushed before his eyes.

"I do want to know," said Harry strongly. "I want to know why my Dad's best friend did not get in contact with me, his only son, until he taught at my school when I was thirteen."

"It's a long story Harry," said Remus.

"I've got awhile," replied Harry stifling a yawn.

"After…after…_that _night," began Remus, thinking back to October 31 and November 1, 1981, "I lost all of my friends. James and Lily were dead, and I thought Peter was too, and Sirius was the worst of all, _the_ betrayer. I was alone, and I wanted to see you. I pleaded with Dumbledore, but he refused. I felt like the forsaken son of some horrible war. There was nothing left for me in England, so I left for twelve years.

"I went to Russia, as Sun Gao let slip this morning, and picked up the language as I sought to do the one thing I couldn't find, justice, and find…peace. I went about it all wrong, I…I…did some horrible things."

"Like what Moony?" asked Harry in a soft voice.

"I…I…I _hunted_ former Death Eaters, random Dark Wizards, and…and… dark creatures."

"The skulls in your room with the horns…" realized Harry, now wide eyed.

"Yes, there were a group of former Death Eaters that used several transformations rituals invented by Rasputin. I…I killed them all, as I killed other dark wizards, vampires…Merlin, I even killed my own kind Harry, I killed fellow Werewolves. All to find some…meaning."

"Were…were they like you?" asked a timid Harry.

"I'd like to think they weren't, but in the end I feel that I am no better…worse even, than they were. My life is filled with regret Harry, tons of it, but do you know what helped me out of this dark place?"

Harry shook his head.

"I didn't try to get out of this…rut… till I met one person. You've met him already. You might have thought that I only knew Sun Gao for a short time, but that's not true. I've known him far longer then that, and he helped me out of the rut I was in. I even served for him for a while."

"Served for him?" asked Harry.

"That's not for me to say," replied Remus automatically. "You should ask Sun Gao about that."

Harry stored that away for later, possibly asking Sun Gao tomorrow at their lesson. _The lesson tomorrow! _Screamed Harry inside his head. _I'll be dead on my feet_!

Harry told Remus this, both agreeing to finish this conversation later. Making it back to the flat in record time, both of them headed off to bed with different thoughts about the other. One concerned for the other's past, and one concerned for the other's future.

The rest of the week went by flawlessly. Harry forgot to ask Sun Gao about what Remus meant by 'serving under him' and nothing else major happened except Harry's total knowledge of Martial Arts went from Aikido and Karate, to include Hoppkido, which was similar to Karate except it was a tad more diverse and used less power; Judo, which uses the opponent's weight and momentum against them; Sambo, which is the Russian art of wrestling taught to many Zansteps (Russian equivalent to Auror); Muay Thai, which is kick boxing and one of the deadliest arts in the world; and Bando, which is the Martial art of the infamous Burmese soldiers, the Gurkha. The final Martial Art that Harry learned that week on Sunday morning was Ishin-Ryu, which allowed him to utilize the bo that Remus got him for his birthday.

After a particularly tough session with Sun Gao that ended later then usual at 2:30, Harry found himself walking to his usual lunchtime haunt, The Leaky Cauldron. As he was walking, a fast moving person hit against his shoulder.

"Sorry buddy," but the person with white blonde hair had already moved on, and looked around before disappearing into an alley.

Harry already knew who it was, so that was why his feet were carrying him in the direction of his school rival, Draco Malfoy, to see what he was up to. Harry passed the side alley once in the common hustle of Diagon Alley traffic. He saw a dark figure and the blonde hair, and he knew it was a meeting of some kind.

Harry stood next to the alley wall and peered down, but he was barely able to hear a thing.

"_Ex audio_," whispered Harry as he pointed his wand to his left ear, and then positioned it toward the alley.

The Audios Charm was a neat surveillance spell that Harry picked up from flipping through Mad-Eye's spell journal. It allowed the person to hear a sound at ten times its normal level. It was quite powerful because it could pick up all sounds and could sometimes be used as a torture technique.

The idea of Moody amused Harry for a few milliseconds, in which he heard nothing out of his left ear, because the retired Auror was still ticked off that a barely sixteen-year-old boy was able to drop him by surprise and then spend the next two hours on the run, and not be found. Remus told him that he was still muttering at Order meetings about 'that Potter boy'. Once Kingsley got wind of what happened in the hospital, his toothy smile didn't disappear for a good four days, until Moody hexed his robes on fire by _accident_.

"What information do you have for me now Draco?" began a slightly accented voice that Harry couldn't place entirely.

"How's my father," asked Draco, not answering the man's question.

"Give me some of your information, and I'll give you his message," replied the accented man.

"I have nothing to give," replied Draco, slightly down cast.

"Our Master, _and _your father will not be please," stated the shrouded figure.

"My father," began Draco, completely ignoring the mention of the Dark Lord, stopping and scrapping his upper lip with his bottom teeth, "Should be proud I agreed to this…_arrangement_."

"He will be proud of you when you actually follow through as any head of a family should," sneered the figure. "Tell me some information, anything you have observed and I will give you your father's…_instructions_."

"You're not lying to me…" the man interrupted him.

"Don't question your betters, your information helps our Lord," replied the man. "And pleases your _father_."

Harry could practically hear Draco's shoulders sag, "Alright," replied Harry's nemesis. "I just bumped into Potter on the way here…"

"Did he follow you?" asked the man immediately.

"No, Potter's not that bright Po-"

"Do not say my name idiot boy!" hissed the Death Eater. "Someone might be listening and you underestimate _that_ boy."

"I think I would know Potter better then you!" snapped Draco.

_Whap!_

Harry clearly heard Draco get backhanded.

"Tell me more about Potter," ordered the man.

"I saw him come out around some store near Patrick's Prick Parlour," replied Draco, disgusted at the name. "He obviously has been to the…_Prick Parlour_ because I saw tattoo's on his shoulders. That's all I have."

"You have done your Lord well Draco," replied the man. Harry heard the exchange of something and a flutter of a robe, then the lone footsteps coming back to the main alley.

"_Finite_," whispered Harry, canceling the Audios Charm.

Looking around for something to hide himself behind, Harry noticed a rack of Wizarding Magazines. Picking up one at random to hide his face behind, he heard Draco enter the main street of Diagon Alley, rubbing the red mark on his cheek. The blonde stopped, his back stiffening before turning to face Harry.

"Potter," breathed Draco.

"Draco," replied Harry coolly, lowering the magazine he was using for cover.

Draco reddened at being referred to in a first name pretext from his nemesis. The red splotches disappeared quickly into his usual arrogant sneer.

"And pray tell Potter," drawled Draco, "What are you doing standing next to an alleyway reading _Teen Witch Weekly _with your picture on the cover? Catching up on your _adoring_ fans?"

Harry was too shocked to speak, and just looked dumbly at the cover that showed a picture of him entering Wok's Magical and Martial Art Studio next to Patrick's Prick Parlour. In the photo he was wearing his common muscle shirt and work out pants, and the Eye of Horus tattoo was on display. But the worst thing was the article associated with the picture: The _Sexy_ Boy-Who-Lived: Harry Potter's secret to having the most yummilicious physique _ever!_

**

* * *

****A/N**

**Resarcio –** Latin, mend (used it as the old method of mending wounds, think _Braveheart_)

**Ex audio- **Latin, hear better

This is starting to be a different Harry… in which family, no even if he doesn't like them all that much, _is_ important.

Kingsley's behavior is based on him knowing of James Potter, and thus looking out for Harry, and also similar to what happened with Harry, Ron and Hermione with the October Troll. Battle, even the DoM, can bring people into a bond of friendship, or to the more extreme, brotherhood. Its common during war time situations.

Remus told us a lot tonight, more then you think.

Draco is _not_ good, but he's not stupid either…that's all I'm going to say.

What do you guys think of Detective Lestrade, should she make reappearances?

**Kadede:** I'm not going to try and be mean about the constructive criticism, because in fact I like it, I just wanted to point out the fact that I have read some FanFic were Harry gets 400 million plus Galleons, _that_ I think is ridiculous. I have to agree that the money my Harry has just 'inherited' is ridiculous to my own standards, however feasible it may be, but I'm trying to show that even Harry thinks it's nuts. I hope this doesn't dissuade you from reading further, as I said before, I love constructive criticism.

**mosleyn001:** Thanks for the reviews! I will say that Ratai is not Remus in disguise. Ratai is…Ratai, my very own OC.

I would also like to thank **yo-yo55d, Blatimoreraven2001, Heala, schmanski, **and **Tainted13Innocence. **I hope every enjoyed this chapter.


	7. Run ins, Run ons & Run outs

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except the plot. Even the title of the story is not mine. Again, I own nothing, except the plot and the computer I type this fanfic on, which I recently found out, will be utterly useless in a years time, thank you school tech. director and stingy school!

This is the Beta'd format. Thank you, Nita.

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By forfie

Chapter 7.) Run ins, Run ons and Run outs

As Harry was standing there in Diagon Alley, only one phrase could explain how he felt with a sneering Draco Malfoy standing in front of him while he stared wide eyed at an article proclaiming him as 'yummalicious', a word that he thought would put the Oxford dictionary to shame; that phrase was boiled down to two words: _BLOODY HELL!_

Harry was just too stunned by the article to even articulate something that could be construed as a come back to his nemesis. He just stood there gapping like a fish out of water, hoping to be thrown back in.

"Looks like some of your…_fans_ are heading this way," sneered Malfoy as he looked at the two sets of red hair that were moving quickly through the crowded streets to where Harry and Draco were.

"I swear, no one comes to Diagon Alley, it's too crowded," said Fred to his brother George, _or was it the other way around_ thought Harry.

The other twin just shrugged as he placed an arm around Harry. "So, getting into trouble here partner?"

"Fred, George?" Harry asked the Twins who smiled cheekily. "What are you doing here?"

The twin that was standing to the left of Harry smiled and said, "We heard it through the grapevine that you might have been in a spot of a trouble."

"And since trouble is our middle name, we both know best how to deal with it," added the George with a wink.

"Speaking of dealing with trouble," replied Fred. "Shouldn't you be leaving, Malfoy? Maybe you should take up where your father left off and _ferret _around Knockturn Alley?"

Draco just leered at the twins while standing his ground in his proud, arrogant, stately pose. George slowly slid his free hand to the pocket of his lurid green dragon skin jacket where his wand was concealed.

"Now, don't be _sluggish_ on our account," said George, slowly beginning to slide his wand out. "We'd rather _hate_ to have to repeat what several people did to you on the return Express."

"I quite agree o' brother of mine," replied Fred. "I prefer originality when it comes to teasing and pranks."

"As do I brother," agreed George, taking out his wand lazily. "Hmm? Already been turned into a ferret and a giant slug…perhaps he'd like to wear a pink tutu?"

"Over rated, I would think," replied Fred seriously, or as seriously as one of the Twins could be. "Perchance…a bird?"

"No, no," disagreed George shaking his head. "A _jail_bird."

"You know what they say? Like father, like son."

Draco stiffened visibly. "I would ask you for the sake of politeness not to refer to my father in such a manner," and with a flourish of his robe, the blonde teenager was on his way down the alley.

"Glad to be rid of that," said Fred, pointing his thumb behind his back at Malfoy before wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulder from the right side. "Now then, why didn't you tell us you were in Diagon Alley for the past week, partner?"

"Err…" began Harry.

"I'm sure he has a good reason," said George. "Like some lady friend he wanted to look… _yummalicious_ for; however, it does not excuse you from seeing your business."

"Nor talking to Lee about his," added Fred as they steered him down the Alley to the store with a green coloured sign similar to the Twins' jacket, with three red W's on it.

"I've been meaning to talk to you two about that," said Harry as the Twins opened the door to the shop that had no costumers inside. "Hey…where are all the clients?"

"We were restocking today, so we normally close the store," replied Fred. "We have been very successful so far, seeing as how the word has traveled to the Charters."

"The Charters?" asked Harry. _How much of the Wizarding world don't I know?_

"Blimey!" exclaimed George from behind the counter. "We forgot that you're not fully aware of the wizarding world yet."

"'s all right," replied Harry. "But please, fill me in a little."

"Alright, you know how all kids are accepted to Hogwarts?" asked George fussing on the counter with something. "Well, not all wizarding families, or muggle-born families can afford it. So the government set up a Charter school system that would teach children at a reduced price. However, the education, if you can call it that, is abominable. Imagine last year, but for the whole seven years of your school…quite awful, eh?"

"Yeah, but what about…" Harry nearly asked, as he tried to stop himself.

"Our family?" finished Fred. "Our family has a tradition for sending their children to Hogwarts, no matter what the cost. Got to love Mum and Dad for that."

"So that would make Hogwarts…"

"An elite school, considered the best in the British Isles if not all of Europe," said George. "Hence why most graduates from Hogwarts get top jobs compared to the conductor of the Knight Bus or a janitor. The schools are spread to the northwest, northeast, southwest, and southeast of the Isle, making Hogwarts the centre of attention."

"I think I get it," said Harry. "So these kids are coming in to buy stuff?"

"Yea, they are what made the business boom so fast," replied George while sitting down with his brother, holding a piece of paper. "The Hogwarts kids have seen most of our stuff, but these kids are buying without any firsthand knowledge. You know, word of mouth. Oh, here is the business statement, stating you as our financial backer and partner."

Harry picked up the document without even looking at it. "Didn't I tell you guys not to do this type of thing?"

"You might have hinted at…" trailed Fred.

"But never directly said it out like that," pointed out George.

Shaking his head, Harry stared at the paper. "Why?"

The Twins looked at each other before George continued. "Well, to put it bluntly, we don't accept gifts well, especially gifts of substantial monetary value."

"Consider it a late birthday present," added Fred with a wink.

"We couldn't take a thousand Galleons and not look back," continued George. "We both felt guilty and in debt. Call it Weasley money nobility, but we won't accept hand outs, so we made you our partner to pay you back and then some."

"You did this without my consent," Harry stated, slightly frustrated.

"You did sign for it…" began George.

"I don't remember ever signing something like that," retorted Harry.

"Well…you were kinda…_incapacitated_ when you signed."

"When?" asked Harry before realization dawned on him. "At the party, was it all setup for this,"—Harry shook the paper—"document?"

"No!" both Twins quickly exclaimed right away. "No, not at all. It was just a presentation of chance to ask you to sign a paper when you were drunk."

"But, let us move on to something else, what's done is done," said George and the bellowed, "LEE!"

The first thing to appear was a black haired, dread lock mess peaking out from the back room belonging to the former Gryffindor and quidditch announcer. A faint line was still visible on his right hand, contrasting his dark skin, from the detention he spent with Umbridge. Harry looked down at his own scarred hand: _I will not tell lies_.

"C'mon out Lee," said Fred. "He's still the same Harry we all know and love, albeit filthy rich, but still Harry."

"Harry," greeted Lee with a nod.

"Lee," Harry greeted back.

"Can I ask one thing?" questioned Lee.

"Lee, you can ask me anything," replied Harry. "We are all equal here."

"I don't feel equal," replied Lee. "I feel sort of…subservient with the person funding my project."

"Don't be," replied Harry.

"It's hard not to," said Lee. "I mean, with the money the Order is giving me to start this up, I thought I had enough, but your…contribution blows what they offered out of the water. I mean honestly, 10,000 Galleons is _a lot_ of money."

_Well, I did tell Griphook to give him double of what it would have taken to start up the business,_ thought Harry as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lee, money doesn't mean anything to me."

"Trust us Lee," said George. "He just gave us the 1,000 Galleons to start up this little place; for Harry, money just isn't an issue."

"Be that as it may George," said Lee lightly twisting one of his dread locks. "I feel slightly overwhelmed about having potentially 13,000 Galleons at my disposal for this night club. I mean…_bloody hell_, I'm thankful and all, but it's just too much."

"We understand," said Fred. "We felt the same way when we got our backing."

"And we couldn't help but feel guilty," added George.

"So we made a decision to take Harry on as a _silent _partner," said George as Harry muttered something about 'forced me into is more likely'.

"That's a good idea," pondered Lee.

"Don't even think about it," said Harry. "I'll back you because I think it's a good idea, and we need some fun during these trying times, but I _refuse_ to become a partner."

"Harry, listen to us," replied George, "Do this so Lee feels better about taking your money. The percent of ownership can be worked out so you make back less then you put in."

"Or, an equal amount back, as we've setup for you," said Fred.

"Dear Merlin!" exclaimed Harry. "I have too much money as it is and I can't even give it away!"

"Calm down there," replied George. "There is this idea that my brother and I have come up with."

"Which will help you out on your career issue," said Fred.

"Because dear ol' Ronniekins told us both of your O.W.L.s scores," continued George. "Looks like you can't become an Auror anymore."

"I don't want to be an Auror anymore," replied Harry.

"I thought you, Ron, and Hermione wanted to be an Auror team together?" asked Fred.

"That was the old Harry," said the raven-haired teen. "Ron and I didn't make the grade required to become Aurors. Hermione did, but she doesn't know what she wants to do yet."

"What she wants to do is easy to figure out, mate," replied George as Harry looked at him. "She wants to do and learn everything."

Harry snorted to himself, _typical Hermione, probably true_.

"Harry, seriously though," said Fred somberly. "Have you noticed any…difference in Ron?"

"Difference in Ron?" thought Harry out loud. "No, not really, why?"

"Well, we've been worried," said George.

"Why?" asked Harry

"Well, ever since…that night, Ron hasn't really wanted to talk about it," said Fred.

"And he has been wearing all these long sleeve shirts," added George. "I mean, it might not seem that odd, but it's a fairly hot summer."

"I'd say so," said Harry. "How about I talk to him later on, okay?"

"Sure, Harry," replied the Twins. "He will probably talk to you more then us because you were there…that night."

_The night Sirius died, when he was murdered, you mean?_ Harry thought to himself a little snappishly, and then trying to change the subject. "Anyway, what were you on about?"

"What were we talking about?" questioned Lee, who had been lost once the talk of Aurors came up.

"Harry's upcoming profession," answered George with a snap of his fingers that brought the thought back.

"Which is?" asked Harry.

"Why Harry, you will be partners with fledgling businesses," explained Fred.

"That you think have a good future," added George.

"Thus becoming a financial backer," continued Fred. "And a partner of many businesses."

"What's the catch?" asked Harry.

"In the wizarding world, a single person can only be a partner in three businesses," stated George.

"However, if one was to set up a corporation with…" continued Fred.

"And set themselves up as the owner of said corporation…" added George.

"One could bypass such laws," finished Fred.

"How…_legal_ is this?" asked Harry, intrigued by the idea of spending a bulky amount of his money.

"Fairly legal…" said George, trailing the last sentence off.

_Ah jeez,_ thought Harry, "I don't think that…"

"Harry, it's not like there is an Azkaban to go to anymore, you know?" answered Fred.

"How would this look for my night club?" asked Lee nervously.

"You'd be fine, mate," replied George. "But if someone were to connect some of the dots and lead to the conclusion that Harry Potter, owner of such and such corporation, had ownership of more then three businesses, which would be in a grey area mind you, it might lead to trouble."

"Why are there laws like this to begin with?" asked Harry.

"Well, Minister Bagnold set them up during the first war so as to curtail some money from Death Eaters and the Order," answered Fred.

"Should we be talking about the Order in front of Lee?" asked Harry.

"Harry," said George. "Lee is in the Order, just as we are, as well as all the graduating members of the DA."

"Jeez, sorry Lee."

"No problem, Harry." replied Lee who then turned to the Twins. "But he does have a point about not talking of such things aloud, should someone over heard us."

"It's a private shop Lee," answered Fred. "The only ears on the walls are the extendable kind we sell. We are well protected here."

"Anyway," replied George, "What do you think of our idea, Harrikins?"

"Err…I'll think about," replied Harry, not ready to make solid plans for his future at the moment. _I still have the prophecy to contend with_, he thought slightly bitterly. "However, I'm still giving you the money, Lee."

"I'll only accept it if you become a partner for fifteen per cent," said Lee. "The Order has the partnership percentage."

"I'll accept on one condition," said Harry. "Why does the Order care so much about this night club? It just doesn't seem their type of…venue."

Lee smiled as he looked at his new partner. "Well, it has always been my dream to run a night club, but I never had the money for it, and considering it the first wizarding night club in England, lots of profit will be made. The Order is helping me out with it because they need to pull in some revenue. Also, they chose the area because they think it is a prime recruiting area for the 18 to 35 year old crowd, as well as picking up some information. You know, ears on the walls type thing. For the Order, helping me out is a win-win-win situation."

"I see," said Harry, thinking that the Order might have had a good idea. "Can I get some of this information too?"

Lee suddenly became slightly nervous. "I'll…have to speak with Dumbledore on that."

Nodding his head in understanding Harry asked the question that would seal the deal for him not having lunch. "What is this club going to be…like?"

Lee grinned wider and started in on the basic floor design to set up an entrance hall that led to a large dance floor with two platforms placed in the middle, both surrounded by bars. The back of the dance floor would have another platform for a magical disk jockey, a friend of Lee's that worked for the Wizarding Wireless Network (WWN), which could also be cleared out for live acts. The same entrance hall also would lead to private parlours where personal business or private parties could be held, for a price of course.

But with Harry's contribution, Lee was thinking of adding a balcony that overlooked the dance floor, thus making it a two story complex. The rest of the two stories would be occupied with a swimming pool, with swim-in bars, and a magical DJ also spinning music from the pool, and Jacuzzis located around the pool area.

"How can the money stretch this far?" asked Harry. "It's seems slightly absurd to me."

"Harry, Harry, Harry," sighed George. "A single galleon equals about five pounds, ten thousand galleons is fifty thousand pounds, Lee has a total of thirteen thousand galleons which comes to the equivalent of…"

"Sixty-five thousand pounds," answered Lee. "Again, like I said, _a lot_ of money."

Harry let out a low whistle upon hearing how much he gave Lee, _didn't really think it was _that_ much_.

"Oh and the best part comes at midnight," added on Lee with a broad smile.

"Why midnight?" asked Harry.

"Why, it would be Fairy Tails Witching Hour," continued Lee as the Twins began to grin also.

"Witching Hour?" asked the confused teen.

"It's a concept we all came up with together," replied George.

"After a visit to a bar a few weeks back," continued Fred.

"Care to explain it to the sexual frustrated one Lee?" asked George, indicating that Harry was the 'sexually frustrated one'.

"This will make sure that the male populace will come," began Lee, his grin getting bigger. "Because the dance platform will have five beautiful women on it. At first, I think it will be the wait staff, might change it to some of the witches in the audience later on though. However, all will be wearing tight fitting white robes and caring a bottle of water."

"White robes and water?" asked Harry, still confused.

"Do you know what happens to white robes that get wet?" asked Lee, upon seeing Harry shake his head. "The clothing becomes nearly see through."

"Oh," answered Harry, then suddenly he got it. "_Ohhhhh_, I get it now."

"Yeah, it was a muggle thing we saw one of the nights we went bar hopping," replied Fred. "What did they call it?"

"Wet t-shirt contest, I think," replied George. "Ahh, that was a good night."

"I bet," snorted Harry, and upon looking at his newly purchased watch, which he made sure was a hundred percent waterproof, jumped from his seat. "It was nice seeing you all, really, and something I'd put off for a week, but I have to head back to training."

"So, is what _Teen Witch Weekly_ wrote really true?" asked George as he and Fred got up to escort his friend, business partner and surrogate brother to the door, with Lee behind them.

"I didn't know you read that drivel," replied Harry, turning around.

"We don't usually," replied Fred. "But we were thinking about taking up some training ourselves. This Sun Gao guy sounds good from what Remus tells us."

"You haven't met him yet?" asked Harry. "Isn't he in the Order?"

"Not that I've seen," replied Fred. "What about you, George?"

"Nope," replied the other Twin. "What about you, Lee?"

"Not a thing about a man named Sun Gao," replied Lee. "And if I don't know him, then he probably isn't in the Order. I mean, I had to meet with all of the 'old timers' to get my plan passed."

"And if someone seems like that much of a heavy hitter and isn't an 'old timer'…" trailed George, looking pensively.

"Then he is one of many things," replied Lee. "A secret member, because there are many we don't know about; a Death Eater, which is highly unlikely; or a really smart man with some good connections."

"I hope it's either the first or third option and not the second," mumbled Fred.

"Trust me guys," said Harry. "If he was a Death Eater, he would have had plenty of chance to kill me thus far. And besides that, Remus trusts him, and that enough for me."

_But then again Remus did trust Wormtail_, thought Harry, slightly morbidly. With that, he bade them all adieu and returned to Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio to learn some new spells from Sun Gao.

Upon entering the store, he was greeted by the harden face of Sun Gao, who told him to run.

"Excuse me, sir?" asked Harry, not comprehending what was going on.

"I had a visit today by a woman named Emmeline Vance," said Sun Gao. "Who was sent to follow you, as the Order informed me it would, and saw someone recognize you; someone that you didn't want to recognize you. Do you not know some glamour charms? For your punishment, you are to start running full speed until I tell you to stop. Is that understood?"

Harry, not wanting his training to be over, knew he had to do this, least he got on Sun Gao's bad side, which after seeing how he handled Mr. Borgin, could be quite…bad. Harry made it to the manual treadmill that was in the work out section of the Studio and stated a jog that he built up to a full sprint. Harry kept this up with his shins aching, sweat pouring, and his lungs burning for the need of more oxygen for well over thirty minutes. Ten minutes of continuous sprinting is torture, but over thirty is madness; yet Harry still kept running. Whether it was to prove to Sun Gao that he could handle the exhaustion, prove it to himself, or just punish himself for his stupidity in thinking that a big crowd was all that was needed to disappear, Harry kept on sprinting.

At fifty minutes, even with endorphins and adrenaline running through his body, Harry couldn't keep up in the full sprint. He stumbled and fell over onto the still moving track which was still spinning quite fast, and was thrown off the machine and against the wall. Harry couldn't feel the pain of the impact due to the numbness that engulfed his body. The only thing that broke him out of this state was the quick searing pain in his forehead that filled his stomach with happiness that was not his own.

Not having had one of these moments for awhile, Harry was slightly shocked, though he quickly let it slip away as the pain receded faster then usual from his scar. _You're happy about something, aren't you Voldemort?_ Not really expecting a reply back, to which Harry was slightly happy, he got up on his wobbling legs and drank some well-needed water. _Should I tell Dumbledore?_ He asked himself. _Nah, why bother Dumbledore when it was nothing concrete. Anyway, Voldemort probably gets ecstatic over finding a galleon between his throne's cushions_, the last thought put a small smile on his face.

"Are you alright Chwen?" asked Sun Gao, with concern and a proud look on his face.

"I'll live sir," replied Harry as he held a wet hand to his forehead.

"That will be all for today Chwen," said Sun Gao. "You have a day off tomorrow. I expect you on Monday morning with your bo so that some modifications can be made."

"Modifications?" asked Harry.

"Yas, a strengthening charm and retractable charm shall do nicely, don't you think?" asked the aged Asian man.

_I'll probably have to do all the spell work myself with no clue how to,_ thought Harry. "Yes sir."

"Have a good night, Chwen," replied Sun Gao. "And I hope your cousin is doing well."

Harry turned around slightly shocked to see the closing of Wok's Magical and Martial Art Studio. _How could he have known?_ Thought Harry as he stared at his new watch again. _Got an hour to kill, eh?_ Harry then noticed that Patrick's Prick Parlour was still open. _I did promise myself another tattoo if I remember correctly,_ thought Harry, _and since I'm visiting Dudley tomorrow, why not? _With that thought, Harry walked into Patrick's for another tattoo.

"'Allo th're," greeted Patty. "'Ow may ah 'elp yeh?"

"Hello Patty," greeted Harry. " I was looking to get another tattoo."

"T'ree tattoos?" exclaimed Patty. "Yeh def'nit'ly ain't leak chor fa'er, laddy. 'Hat 'ill it be?"

"I'll just look around first," said Harry. He felt something drawing him to the Celtic section where Harry saw what could best be described as a design of continually intertwining lines that formed a triangle.

"Dat dere 's un me fav'rites 'cus 't's part o' me cult're," replied Patty, sighing slightly. "Dat dere 's a Celtic Kn't, dere 're many diff'ent d'signs. Da symbol 't self 'as l'st 't's tru' meanin'. 'Tern'ty, c'nnectedness an' foilin' evil spir'ts 're some o' da spec'lated meanin's."

_The tattoo definitely chooses the wizard_, thought Harry, and then, remembering the fluttering butterfly on a pretty attendants face caused him to blush slightly. "I'll take it Patty, preferable on the left side of my chest in dark green, please."

"Sur' sonny," replied Patty, a little choked up after reliving one of his past memories.

Less then an hour later, Harry was on his way back to the flat with a playing card size bandage on the left of his chest where his new tattoo resided. Wearing his brown leather jacket, which still had the cut in it from the stab wound, and carrying his invisibility cloak, Harry made his way onto the apparation platform where he drew a silencing charm around himself as usual and apparated to the welcoming hall of the Dog House.

His return home would have been normal, albeit he was returning a little early, except for one thing: there were two people in a heavy make out session on one of the couches, paperwork still on the coffee table. All he could really see was some grey and brown peppered hair, which had to be Remus, and long black hair, which he hoped was a witch. Not knowing what to do, Harry thought to give them some time alone.

"Err…I'll be going, yeah?" sputtered Harry as he folded up the invisibilty cloak and put it in his breast pocket of his leather jacket.

_Well, if they didn't hear me apparate in, I doubt they heard me then_, and with that, Harry stepped into the lift, and traveled to the lobby and walked out onto the street.

"Well Harry," he said to himself, "the City of London belongs to you for the night."

Harry was not expecting an answer, so when the drawl of his least favorite teacher reached his ears, shock would be an understatement.

"You reach a new level of arrogance even your father never had, Potter," drawled Severus Snape, who was standing next to the door wearing a black long sleeve button down shirt with black slacks and shoes that threw his pale complexion into stark contrast. "Even that _mutt_ you called a godfather would never have claimed to own a whole city."

**

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****A/N**: Please forgive me for such a short chapter, I want to try and update every Friday, or as close to it as possible, so please don't hold me to that. It's is the shortest chapter I have written, and I'm a horrible, horrible person. However, I'm a horrible person that no longer has to go to school! Yahooo! So now I have some free time to work on this fic more and more. 

Sun Gao will deal punishments so that his students learn from mistakes before Karma takes effect.

Trying to solve what a rich Harry is going to do, and giving an alternative to being an Auror, not to mention I like the Witching Hour idea.

Who is Remus making out with?

Thanks go out to: **Ice Maiden, snape504, sirius009, Draghknar, yo-yo55d, RENZO, I-Confuse-Everyone, mosleyn001, filin**, and to anyone else who read the last chapter, and hopefully this one.


	8. Semi Charmed Kinda Life

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, you hear me, NOTHING! The world is JKR's and the plot is my messed up idea.

I already know I messed up, but I'm too lazy to change it, but it is not Sunday, as I previously wrote in the last chapter, instead it is Saturday. Hence why Sun Gao said you "You have a day off, see you Monday," makes more sense this way eh?

This is the unbeta'd version…please forgive me.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

By forfie

Chapter 8.) Semi-Charmed Kinda Life

Harry slowly turned around to face the long, greasy haired man that had an overly protruding hooked nose that was Severus Snape, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's answer for a Potions Master. Loathing had been the foundation of interactions shared between them ever since Harry first step foot onto the grounds of Hogwarts. It is a relation that neither could nor would change, for their hate of each other went past that of just student and professor. Snape had hated Harry because he was an exact copy of his school time nemesis, James Potter, and the Potions Master could not see the two beings as separate entities. Harry's odium for his former professor was cemented earlier in the summer during his many reflections upon life before and during training sessions with Dudley. Harry's former thoughts of Snape simply being a greasy git transcended to a new level that is described by a single question: why did he get to live while other and better people died?

_The Order needs their spy, _reminded Harry to himself, _but why does he get to live over my parents, over Sirius, over Cedric and the countless others, why?_ One of the hardest questions in life that many try to answer have lead to the creation of religions, destruction of civilizations and, Harry conceded, rises of Dark Lords. Gritting his teeth and braving through a confrontation that he thought was occurring all too soon, Harry greeted Professor Severus Snape, Order of the Phoenix's spy, newly Death Eater Lieutenant, and greasy haired git.

"_Professor_ Snape," greeted Harry stressing the title, "What a…_pleasant _surprise…Sir."

"You take to mind Potter, that though your friends might not notice your sarcasm through their hormonally muddled organs they refer to as a brain, I on the other had can detect the art of sarcasm you have made a rightly butchered, just as you did to the gentle art of potions," sneered Snape, "However, you will find that I am not here to degraded you on your horrendous potion's O.W.L., though I am quite _ecstatic_ not to have the local celebrity interrupting my classes anymore, and that this…_meeting_ between us is only taking place due to my instructions from the Headmaster at great risk of my standing in a certain organization."

_If I don't have to see every again, I could live a happy life_, thought Harry, "And what might our illustrious Headmaster require from his simple servant that would put him in such danger, Sir?"

"Do not carry that tone for your elders and over all betters you foolish boy," replied Snape as he grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him into a side Alley.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry slightly frightened by being grabbed by a man he wouldn't trust as far as he could throw him.

"Do you want the muggles to see and risk exposure?" snarled Snape as he pushed Harry to a wall and whipped out his wand and cast a temporary muggle repealing charm on the entrance to the alley, "I swear Potter, you stupidity surpasses the ken of any man."

Harry glared at the pale skinned man, "What is it you're here to do, Sir?"

"Didn't the werewolf tell you," asked Snape.

Harry, trying his best to tolerate Snape even through his prejudice, narrowed his eyes slightly before replying, "He was kind of…busy when I arrived, Sir."

"Typical half-breed in heat," replied Snape, "And that floozy, Jones, can't help but exacerbate the werewolf's …"

"The werewolf as you so put it," grounded out Harry, "Has a name, and please, who is Jones?"

Snape's angry was evident in his black eyes, "You will not correct me once again Potter, and the _werewolf's_ life is his own and you should not stick your nose in where it doesn't belong. However, you have always been quite inept in your curiosity of other people's _personal_ business."

_Don't let him get a rise out of you_, repeated Harry to himself like a mantra, _it will anger him more if you don't react. Don't let him get a rise out of you_, "Let's just get what needs to be done over with, what needs to be done?"

"The Headmaster wants a test of your Occlumency shields," replied Snape, "And being such a busy person as he, I was the one stuck with this meager task that you have turned into ample burden."

"I told Dumbledore that I wouldn't take Occlumency again," replied Harry.

"It's _Professor _or _Headmaster_ Dumbledore," rejoined Snape, "And you keep that in mind Potter, or I shall teach it to you in a manner you will not be fond of."

Harry muttered something along the lines of 'who is fond of your _teaching_' before telling Snape to get on with it.

"On the count of three," said Snape, "That is if you can count that high, Potter."

"Yes…_sir_," said Harry.

"One…" counted Snape his wand pointed at Harry, "_Legilimens!_"

Harry glared into the eyes of his Professor who forgo counting to three. Looking straight into Snape's cold black eyes, Harry felt the effects of the spell at work. Though this time, compared to all the other times this particular spell was placed on him in Snape's office, instead of the usual feeling in which Harry felt like being pulled back as his memories washed over him, he found himself 'rushing forwards'. With this feeling of rushing forward, Harry caught glimpses of images.

A girl with red hair walking away, her face was bright red in obvious anger….A hooked nosed man roughly pushed, more like threw, a woman into a chair and turned around to back hand greasy haired teen that was shouting at him….The same teen, maybe a year older but no more, grimacing in pain as a wand was pressed to his left forearm…. A young man standing in the rain as the sun slowly set behind two individual, yet identical, granite tablets that could only be head stones…. The same teen from before hanging upside down, his robes falling into his face as his grey….

"GET OUT!" shouted Snape as Harry felt a pushing against his chest, stopping him from proceeding 'forward'.

Thrown back into reality, Harry heard Snape panting, as well as his own heavy breathes. He was leaning against the alley wall as Snape was doubled over still gasping for breath.

Trying to put words to his concern for what just happened, Harry ventured to ask, "P-p-professor?"

Between his gasping, Snape raged with a horse voice shaking with rage, "WHO…TAUGHT…YOU?"

"I'm sorry sir," replied Harry seeing the extreme anger in Snape's eyes, "But I don't know what your talking about."

"WHO…TAUGHT…YOU?" Snape repeated, all of his previous _decorum_ lost, "Who, Potter, taught you Legilimency?"

"No one, sir," replied Harry instantly, "I don't…know Legilimency."

"Don't lie to me Potter," growled Snape, "There is a reason it is a controlled mental art, now tell me who taught you?"

"No one taught me Legilimency…_sir_," replied Harry.

"I'll get the Headmaster to sort this out," said Snape as he held up his wand, "Potter, you do not know the foolish trouble you are messing around with."

Harry wanted to say something to his credit, but nothing was forthcoming. Snape waved his wand in a way that reminded Harry of one of his old school tricks that made a pencil look as if it was rubber, before he held the tip to his mouth and the base near his ear. Around a minute passed as Snape stood there in silence, his eyes narrowing ever once and while as he shot a few glares at Harry. Pulling away his wand, Snape looked at Harry.

"You are to report to Grimauld Place immediately," ordered Snape, "I trust you can find your own way to get there with out me babysitting you?"

"Yes," replied Harry through gritted teeth, "_Sir_."

With that, Snape took down the muggle repealing wards on the entrance to the alley and erected a silencing area around himself before disapparating. Erecting his own silencing spell, Harry disapparated to the front hall of Grimauld Place. _It's too soon_, thought Harry as he looked up at the gas lamps lining the hall.

The depressing ambience of the house sans it's owner was extremely thick in the air that Harry even thought Sun Gao could not cut through it with his katana or 9-Ring Sword. Thinking about katanas and 9-Ring Swords temporally alleviated Harry from the depressing manner of the house.

Sun Gao had briefly shown Harry the uses of the two swords in his training today, just as a demonstration of advanced weapon handling when Harry started to use his bo. The katana is commonly known to westerners, a term Sun Gao used to defer from eastern and western knowledge, as the sword used by Samurais. The less known was that of the 9-Ring Sword, it's proper name being a Lungchuan 9-Ring Broadsword, which was created some 2600 years earlier in Lungchuan. The type of sword was named after the region for it was Lungchuan iron ore that the original swords were made out of, all of them tempered in fire and cooled in the seven streams surrounding Qinxi Mountain. The most striking part of the sword, besides all the blades were in the shape of a Chang Pu leaf and the handles were all made of the expensive Hua-Li wood, the 9-Ring Sword had, as it's name suggests, 9 rings pierced systematically on the blades opposing side which allows it to 'whistle' when being drawn or used, attached to a pole or a rope threaded through them adding more ways to make this beautiful weapon useful.

Harry's musing about the 9-Ring Sword lasted long enough so that he made his way in to the kitchen with out incident from Kreacher and Mrs. Black's portrait. _Keep your mind off it_, he thought to himself before seeing the smiling face of his Headmaster sitting at the kitchen table. Harry headed over and sat in front of him.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" broached Harry.

"Yes, Harry," replied the Headmaster, "Severus has informed me of a new found ability of yours."

"Snape mentioned something about Legilimency," replied Harry, "And I know for certain that no one has taught me it."

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry," replied Dumbledore with a thoughtful look on his face, "And I too have been wondering about certain things…tell me, has your scar hurt you at all this summer save for that vision you had about a week ago?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore in his blue eyes, still experiencing the feeling of been seen through as if he was a first year, Harry withdrew his eyes before replying, "Today, sir, after I ran for awhile, I felt Voldemort become… overjoyed about something, but the pain was less then what occurred last year."

"Hmm…" pondered Dumbledore stroking his beard.

_The vision felt different then before too, _thought Harry, _like I had more control, like something between me in Voldemort has…changed? That's not the right word. Transformed, yea, that seems to be more like it._ Giving it a shot, Harry offered this idea to Dumbledore.

"I believe that you are correct Harry," replied Dumbledore, "And I think I know when it occurred."

"When, sir?" asked Harry looking for answers.

"I believe when Voldemort possessed you, the link between you two transformed as you so put," replied the aged Headmaster, "Severus did report that a few weeks after the Department of Mysteries battle that Voldemort was incredible weakened. This could explain some things, as your Legilimency skills could have been 'awoken' from Tom's intrusion upon your mind. This could also mean several other skills could have been 'awoken' too, but I believe it is to early to tell.

"Harry, tell me, after your lessons with Severus last year, did you feel any difference between your connection to Voldemort?"

Harry looked at his Headmaster, not know what compelled him and told him how after lessons with Snape, he would be more susceptible to dreams, visions and sporadic feelings through out the day or in his sleep.

"Hmm…" pondered Dumbledore before stating, "I believe this is quite an irony of life."

"I beg your pardon, sir?" replied Harry questioning his Headmaster sanity.

"I mean to say," continued Dumbledore, "That the curse connecting you and Voldemort is one with the intent of ending a life, while the connection cause by it between you two seems to be...for lack of better word, 'alive'. Quite peculiar I must say."

_Alive?_ Questioned Harry to himself, "Sir, what do you mean by alive? As in a living, breathing…being?" _Dear Merlin, please say I did not create a life with Voldemort, that's just so…_wrong_ on so many levels_.

"Does breathing constitute a life, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore philosophically, "Harry, you have been lucky thus far not to see the effects the Dementor's Kiss has on a subject. Afterwards, they are mere husks of their former selves. Do they breathe? Yes. Are they alive? Now that is a question of semantics in which personal beliefs are subjugated. However, if you want to look at the connection as being alive, in a sense of a physical form, it would be through both your life and Voldemort's.

"It also seems that this connection is bound by some of the basic rules of evolution, though on a microcosmic scale, meaning that while it would take hundreds of thousands of years for a whole species to adapt to a surrounding, your connection adapts anytime force is exerted onto it. Granted, these are just observations that I'm interpreting, I could be entirely incorrect."

_At least you admit it now Dumbledore_, thought Harry, "But how do I know Legilimency all of a sudden?"

Dumbledore leaned over the table and pointed his long, old finger at the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead, "The knowledge might have been locked up in that scar of yours, and it just needed enough of a…push to be extricated. Voldemort's possession of you as he fled was most likely the force that dislodged the knowledge as well as change the connection to a point where I believe you will have equal control."

"What do you mean sir?"

"You seem to be able to block out Voldemort, save for when you suffer extreme exhaustion, and like wise for Tom I would believe. Hence why you saw the emptying of Azkaban," replied Dumbledore, "Breaking through the wards took a lot of energy out of Tom, and for one wizard, no matter how powerful, to take down complex wards, such as Azkaban's, would be an exhausting feet."

"What's happening to Azkaban now, sir?"

"Ahh," replied the Headmaster of Hogwarts leaning backwards, "What is left of the island after the leveling of the prison is being used for Auror training and as a port."

"A port?" _why would a port be needed in the North Sea?_

"It seems that Voldemort's main power, being the Giants, is in the country of Russia, as are some of his supporters from the first war. You most likely met the most infamous one of them in the Department of Mysteries, Mr. Antonin Gregovich Dolohov," replied Dumbledore, "What I'm telling you is in confidence Harry, for I believe you can block it from Voldemort if it came down to a face to face confrontation."

"I think you're expecting a lot from me, sir," replied Harry earnestly.

"If you need proof of your skill," continued Dumbledore, "Take a look at your actions tonight, not only did you use Legilimency to block Professor Snape's attack, but to also penetrate his Occlumency shields, something Voldemort has not done yet. Tell me Harry, do you sometimes get glimpses of memories, feelings associated with memories or say knowing if someone is lying to you?"

Harry thought back to all his encounters for the past few months. The feeling that there was something else the attendant at Madam Malkin's wanted to say, glimpses of feelings and memories from Griphook, and even more recently, knowing that Piers was telling him the truth while Harry was 'interrogating' him. Unknowingly, Harry was rubbing a tingling sensation in his left shoulder while he answered the Headmaster with an affirmative response and said examples.

"I see from you examples that you have already learned how to restrain yourself from delving too deeply into the minds of people around you, or if not restrained, don't have the knowledge to allow you to enter fully unless provoked or…powered to by strong emotions you might feel for certain individuals," replied Dumbledore.

"Are you saying that I have strong emotions for Snape!" exclaimed Harry with a grimace on his face.

"Emotions can be in a multitude of categories," replied Dumbledore, "There it love, fear, sadness, anger, or the one that you and Professor Snape seem to share for one another, hate. Be careful Harry, do not let hate control your life."

Silence reigned in the room as Dumbledore thought to himself humming what sounded like an old children's song called 'Ta Ra Ra Boom De Ay'. Harry sat there staring dumbly at his Headmaster, who had started an overture to this children's song that consisted of six sounds and gesticulated in a manner that Harry thought must be similar to a conductor, having never seen one himself.

Dumbledore opened his eyes after having finished the twelfth refrain, "You will find, Harry, that you can catch flies better if you have honey in your mouth as well as keeping it open," Harry promptly closed his mouth, not realizing that his jaw dropped, "That little interlude has given me some thought, Harry, I think it would be good for you to join the Order."

Gob smacked and bewildered could be the best words to describe Harry's state of mind at that moment. Despite learning that the connection between him and Voldemort was ever changing, that he was a Legilimens and seeing his Headmaster do a composure of a children's song were quite too much to take in at once. But being asked to join the Order of the Phoenix that was the topper of the situation.

"W-w-why?" asked Harry and added hastily, "Sir."

"I believe that you have enough skills and maturity to handle being in the Order," answered Dumbledore, "However, there would be some restrictions."

"Restrictions, sir?" _So I wouldn't be on equal footing?_

"You would not participate in missions, or helping in security. Currently we are still in an information collecting period," replied Dumbledore somberly, "You would be privy to a lot of information though."

"Sir, I know I haven't been the nicest person to you as of lately," replied Harry.

"Understandable so," replied Dumbledore, "I rather enjoy difference of opinion, however, there is always a limit one can handle."

"But I can't accept your offer," replied Harry solemnly, "What good could I do the Order by being at Hogwarts, not going on missions or helping other members that would be in trouble. I'll help out as much as I can, and I sure would like some information, but I would also like to act on that information. However, I think it is rather unfair of you to be offering this to me to join an organization that I would not be an equal member of."

"I understand your claims Harry," replied Dumbledore, "And I will not take the offer away, I'll leave it as a standing invitation for you to join. But realizing my mistakes from last year, I will make sure to inform you about anything concerning you or your friends, personally.

"And as such, I guess I should start now and tell you some information. First off, the Room of Requirement will be off limits indefinitely."

"Why, sir," asked Harry_, what am I supposed to do with the D.A.?_

"The teachers and I feel that while it was used last year for good intentions," began Dumbledore, "We all believe that since it is wide knowledge to the students now, it presents an opportunity for courses of _devious_ means."

Harry thought devious means could only be one thing, and as always that one thing seemed to be sexual relations of one kind or another. Nodding his understand, "Sir, where will I hold D.A. meetings?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but since the D.A. is not a sanctioned school club I can not help you out in that area," replied Dumbledore, "Though I'm quite sure you can find something in time with the administration turning a blind eye to this club, though one request. Please change the name, I dear says I don't need a personal army."

Harry half smiled while Dumbledore continued.

"The second pertains to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor; I believe you have met him?" Harry nodded once again, "He has told me that you are quite the apt pupil. Anyway, for your class, of which I will not tell you who is in it, the room will be the third floor corridor on the right-hand side. This is the same place where the Philosopher's Stone was hidden, I think you will remember."

Harry nodded once again, _a room is a room after all, I'm sure the obstacles were removed_.

"The third and last bit of information pertains to the betrayal of the Order by Sturgis Podmore. Although he might not have been that privy to a lot of information, he does know quite a lot of our current members, or as I believe the younger crowd refers to us as the 'old timers'. Among this information, he also knows where you spend your summer, something not many wizards know. As a precaution, we have made sure that the Dursleys moved out of number 4 Private Drive and into a slightly larger house at 8 Magnolia Crescent, I dear say they will be happy there. Oh, your cousin returns home tomorrow, if you have some times, I think you might want to visit him."

"That's good," replied Harry, _what kind of cousin am I, I didn't even check up on Dudley for a whole week_, "Is that all sir?"

"Yes, I believe that is quite enough for tonight," replied Dumbledore, "I believe Remus is waiting for you, I did talk to him and Hestia for a while about appropriate behave around influential teens, hopefully when Remus feels the need for some oral exploration, he will do it in a way that won't drive you out of the house."

Harry was mortified, embarrassed and laughing at the same time. Laughing at Dumbledore's coined term of oral exploration in place of making out, mortified because it sounded as though Remus was corrupting him, which just wasn't true, and embarrassed because of the whole situation.

"Err…I best be going," replied Harry, "Have a good night, sir."

"You to Harry," replied Dumbledore before he started up 'Ta Ra Ra Boom De Ay' again.

Looking at his Headmaster oddly, Harry apparated back to the London flat for some well needed sleep.

The next morning, Harry and Remus were sitting at the counter, each drinking a glass of orange juice while nibbling on toast. Remus was slightly uncomfortable, which was apparent because of he was shifting around in his seat a lot as he looked at Harry before looking at the counter top ashamed. Harry put his glass down hard on the table.

"Alright, Remus, what's the matter?" asked the teen finally feed up from Lupin's continuous movements.

"I'm sorry about last night Harry," said Remus, "You shouldn't have seen that, it was uncalled for and…"

"Remus, shut up, I'm glad you could get some," replied Harry, "Awkward to walk in on, sure, but I'm glad you got something. Who was she anyway?"

Remus bit his bottom lip before replying, "It was Hestia Jones, and she's going to be on the mission to Russia with me. I'm coaching her to learn Russian, as well as some Mongolian and Mandarin. And…well…one thing lead to another…and we became most unprofessional."

"Moony, it's perfectly fine," replied Harry, "Is this a…long time thing?"

"No," replied Remus quickly, "At least I don't think so…it just sort of happened…maybe it was the tension…Dear Merlin, is she expecting something from me? I've always been bollocks at relationships…"

"Moony, calm down," replied Harry as he collected the plates, "Just don't mention it to her and she was she wants."

"Okay," agreed Remus, "Wait a tick, why am I taking advice from you? Didn't your last relationship end horribly?"

"It started pretty bad too," replied Harry, "But don't listen to me if you don't want to, it's your choice."

Remus trying to change the subject quickly from his love life, "No training with Sun Gao?"

"Nope," replied Harry sitting back down again, "He gave me the day off; most likely to learn some spells for class tomorrow. Did you know Dudley was getting released from the Hospital today?"

"No, do you want to visit him later on?" asked Remus.

"Yea, I've been rather awful don't you think?"

"No, not at all," replied Remus, "Harry, it's the Dursleys, you don't have to show a fake love to them."

"I know," replied Harry, "But it's hard to fake family."

Remus looking to cheer him up some, "We'll visit at one, gives you plenty of time to learn your spells, and time for them to settle in."

"Sure," replied Harry as he pulled a book from one of the book cases that looked like it would contain strengthening and retractable charms.

It was 12:30 by the time Harry finished reading up on the different strengthening charms and retractable charms. He quickly changed into a pair of tan cargos, an emerald green shirt and his brown leather jacket, which was quickly becoming his favorite. He and Remus decided that arriving to 8 Magnolia Crescent by way of the Beetle would be better then apparating.

Remus was turning the dials looking for a station but only finding static. He gave up and turned the radio off. Harry looked at the radio, thinking out load.

"Why can't you use magic to connect the radio to the stations better?" asked Harry.

"Harry, do you know what happens to electronic equipment near highly concentrated magical areas or objects?" seeing the teen's confused look, Remus continued, "Magic, when surrounding items that run on electricity acts like a jamming device, preventing it from working. However, if too much magic is enchanted, or spelled, onto a muggle item, it can become semi or fully sentient. Just like Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia."

Remembering how the car spit out his and Ron's trunks before speeding off into the woods during his second year brought a nostalgic smile to Harry's face, "So if you used magic, the car might not work or become sentient?"

"Right in one," replied Remus, "Be careful though, sentient toasters are rather temperamental."

"So _that's_ why we have a new toaster!" exclaimed Harry, "Wait a tick, how does the T.V. work in the flat?"

"That works because the only charms on the house are not magically 'heavy' and are focused on the floor as opposed to the ceiling or air. It's a rather confusing topic to follow, think of it as an up-down process. If an electric object was placed well enough above a magically enchanted object, then it will be less affected then if it was under it.

"However, if you say, put the T.V. on the ground, you won't be able to watch it. Another problem arises if you put more magic into the air, say casting an air-freshening charm, would send the T.V. haywire because the air-freshening charm is an air traveling charm, which would surround the T.V."

"What about magically powered equipment," asked Harry thinking out of the box.

Remus looked over at Harry as he was turned onto the A3, "You know, Harry, I don't believe anyone has tried that."

"Really?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, it's seems crazy and simple enough that it might work," thought Remus out loud.

"Maybe I should pass it by Fred and George," said Harry, "They are the inventors after all."

"And I could only imagine the mischief those to could come up with, with such a resource," replied Remus, "Probably something along the lines of Everlasting Drumming Pink Bunnies or something."

Harry and Remus both laughed before they slipped into a comfortable silence that lasted all the way to the Dursley's new home.

The Dursley's new house was, just like their old one, a carbon copy of all the other houses situated on that suburban development street. However, it was a little bigger then what was 4 Privet Drive, carried an address that belonged to Magnolia Crescent, which was considered to be a slightly better area of Little Whinging, and was all paid for by the Order of the Phoenix's capital for the next two years. To say the Dursley's got a great deal would not be far from the fact when you gazed upon the two story home, with a basement, five bedrooms and three and half bathrooms; it was a major upgrade from their former four bedrooms and one and half bathrooms. Harry had a small smirk on his face when he also remembered that Rachel Cobbler lived on Magnolia Crescent also.

Harry stepped up to the grey house that had a rich wooden door that was a slight shade of cranberry and rang the doorbell. His horse faced, long necked, blonde haired aunt answered the door. At the sight of Harry and Remus, she upturned her nose slightly before inquiring in her politest tone.

"What do you want?"

"Um…"stammered Harry under his aunt's gaze, "We're…well, I'm here to see Dudley, I heard he was released from the hospital today, and I wanted to see how he was doing."

"Then why didn't you visit at the hospital before gadding about to beat up those poor, unfortunate boys?" replied Petunia before continuing to herself, "Where ever could their parents have gone wrong, I'm glad that my Diddikins left them before they could have influenced his impressionable mind."

Harry looked over uneasily at Remus who just shook his head in response slowly. _So it's their parent's fault they turned out that way?_ Thought Harry to himself angrily, _I know for a fact that Dudley used to act just like them!_ "If you don't want me too…"

"This is the last time I will allow you under our roof for the year," replied Aunt Petunia stiffly, "You will not be welcomed back after you leave today until you come back from that school of yours. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," replied Harry feeling like he was a little kid again.

"The only reason I'm allowing you in today is because my sweet little Popkin wanted to see you for some reason," replied Aunt Petunia as she lead both of them into the entrance hallway, "If it were up to me, you would have been turned away like any other vagabond."

"Mrs. Dursley," said Remus as they made it to the den where the battered form, yet more healthy looking after a few days of healing, form a Dudley Dursley sat watching the telly, his crutches leaning against the couch and his foot raised on an ottoman, his arm elevated by pillows, "Perhaps we should leave these two to talk. I also have a few things that I need to discuss with you."

Nodding her consent grudgingly, she might have to put up with wizards but she didn't have to enjoy it, she led Lupin into the kitchen. Harry nervously waited around the threshold as he watched his cousin. The bandage that had covered half of Dudley's face was now gone, but the purple, with a slight hint of green, swelling remained around his cheek bone and jaw, the eye looked practically closed over. The redness from his other eye, do to broken blood vessels, had degraded so that there was only a twinge of pink. The bandages were gone from his ribs and other extremities, which had to be a good sign thought Harry.

"Why don't you stop starring at me a take a seat," sighed Dudley a little irritably.

"Err…" _well jeez Potter, how would _you_ act if you were beat this bad?_

Harry walked over tentatively to take a seat near Dudley on the couch. He slowly eased himself down so as not to disturb his cousin. Dudley just kept his eyes, or more likely eye, forward as he watched the telly.

"You know, two years ago I would have given anything to just sit in front of the telly all day?" said the well trodden boy, "Now I can't stand it. Do they have tellys in your world?"

"Err…" began Harry articulately, "No, there are no tellys, a Wizarding Wireless Network and a daily newspaper, but no tellys."

"I envy you right now," said Dudley flatly, "I can only take so much of this garbage I use to enjoy, what was I thinking back then?"

"You thought back then?" replied Harry before he could stop himself.

Dudley let out about gales of laughter before wheezing and coughing.

"Do you need some water?" asked Harry as he reached for the pitcher and glass on the coffee table.

"No, don't baby me, I get enough of that from mum," said Dud, "At least dad gives me some space, both think I'm going to crack any day now or something."

"Why would you crack?" asked Harry.

"They don't think I knew who beat me up," replied Dudley as he looked at Harry for the first time that day with his intense blue eye, "And they think that when that detective told me my 'friends' committed the act…they thought that…I would go barking or something. They still think that they were misguided boys."

"I heard that from Aunt Petunia when I walked in," said Harry as he poured himself a glass of water, "I mean, they beat you up, nigh kill me, sell drugs to kids in our neighborhood, and take hits for hire, yet your parents think of them as misguided and me as a delinquent that they have to tolerate."

"You should have seen their faces with that detective…"

"Zoë Lestrade," corrected Harry without thinking.

"Umm…yeah….her, anyway, they both quickly denied that Piers and the others could do such a thing, but when they were told that you were the one that brought them in…there is no other way to say it, they were floored," replied Dudley, "No offense Harry, but how could you do it? You might have gained some muscle, but not enough to do the damage you inflicted."

Harry looked at Dudley with a half smirk, "Nothing is as it seems."

"What kind of mystic mumbo-jumbo is that?" asked Dudley.

"Nothing," replied Harry looking down, "How has Rachel been treating you since?"

"Thanks for telling her," said Dudley, "It's been alright, moving closer to her has helped out a lot, but were just really good friends."

Harry looked at Dudley with a raised eye brow moving onto another subject, "Is there any…lasting damage?"

"The arm should be fine," replied Dudley before sighing, "However, the leg might be…less than mobile for a while. The worse part is my eye."

"What happened to your eye?" Harry asked slightly shocked, _didn't the doctors see the problem with it before?_

Dudley sighed a little bit harder as he looked Harry directly in the eyes, or more exactly the eye that was behind a swollen purple and green mass of flesh looked through and beyond him, "After the swelling went down some, the docs found that I had a detached retina."

Harry stared at his cousin with a look that clear meant 'what's a retina'.

"In layman's terms, which is how they explained it to me, the sight in my left eye is bad if not worse then blind," replied Dudley with, biting his bottom lip and making a strained sniffing noise, "All I can see out of it right now is the outline of light on objects, they say it might get better by itself, but nothing will bring it back to its regular sight. Harry, I know I've asked you to help me not a few days ago, but this is something I need. I…I…I don't want to be blind, even if it's only just one eye."

Harry's shoulders sagged, _how can I tell him that there is no cure; there isn't even anything to correct my eyesight_. Harry looked into the blue eyes of his cousin. Blue eyes full of despair, anger, fear, but the one thing that still kept them alive, the hope that made them thrive, sealed what Harry was thinking. He couldn't walk away from someone in need, even if it was his cousin, it was just as Hermione said before he and five other commandeered six threstrals to save his godfather, he had a 'saving people thing'.

"I'll try Dudley, I'll try," he replied looking down at his lap, _how are you going to pull this off?_

Dudley broke into a wide grin, showing off a full set of teeth, "Wait a tick, didn't you get six teeth knocked out?"

"Oh, these," replied Dudley as he popped out a pair of false teeth, "The docs asked me if I wanted to try this prosthetic, it's a new model. Instead of fully dentures, it's sort of like a pop in place set of missing teeth, makes eating definitely better."

Harry snorted as he reminded himself of that tubby whale his cousin used to be, and then Harry looked over and realized not for the first time just how much Dudley had changed in the past year and half.

"Harry, I heard what you did to the Gang, and…thank you," said Dudley, "I shouldn't have asked you to do it. That was stupid of me to do, please forgive me."

Not really knowing how to respond, Harry just nodded once slowly. Dudley looked relieved before he got an evil smirk on his face.

"You know, Rach has told me that news got around about you taking down the Gang," said Dudley, "She says that there might be some unsavory blokes after you for getting rid of their dealers, but on the other hand, there are some more savory characters asking about you."

Harry tilted his head in confusion as he looked at his cousin who continued, "All the people thought you were some delinquent, but when you bring down the main distributor to Little Whinging you tend to get some praise from the parents of children. However, the heroic action of avenging your cousin brutal beating has won you the hearts of many girls. Oh, I might want to tell you that Summer has been looking for you."

Snorting at Dudley's comment of 'wooing' the girls of Little Whinging and muttering about how 'people can change their opinions really fast', Harry looked up at Dudley, "Really? How is she?"

"Moving," replied Dudley, and continued upon seeing Harry's slightly shocked look, "Her father has been offered a job back in his hometown, some city in the Caribbean…Freemont, Freeington, Freepop…"

"Freeport?" ventured Harry.

"Yes!" exclaimed Dudley, "That's it, Freeport, on the Grand Bahamian Island. Wait, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess…" replied Harry,_ Summer is moving to were your going on vacation…some how it doesn't feel…right, no not the word…well it definitely feels odd_.

"Sure…" replied Dudley, "Anyway, she wanted to meet up with you before she left…"

"Not possible," said Harry, "Your mum said I can't come back till the end of the school year."

"She can be right pain in the arse," said Dudley.

Harry looked at his cousin in dumbfounded disbelief; _did he just say what I think he did?_

"Don't look at me that way," snapped Dudley, "It's bloody annoying having her fawn over me all the time, specially with Rach and other people here. I'm sixteen years old and I still have my mum calling me popkin and didums and what have you. I'll not stand it any more."

"Dudley, be happy you have some one to fawn over you," replied Harry matter of flatly.

"Yea," replied Dudley, "Sorry."

"'S'okay," replied Harry, "Oh, when does Summer move for Freeport?"

"Um…I think Rach said it was the 2nd of September," replied Dudley, "I'm most likely wrong."

_So I miss her by a day,_ thought Harry, _it would have been nice to spend some time with her…or seen her in a bikini_, a smile crept it's way onto Harry's face at the thought of the exotic beauty in a bikini.

Harry soon left Dudley and Aunt Petunia not to return to the Dursley household until the end of his school year. He and Remus stepped out of the orange Baja Bug and proceeded into the flat.

The next day saw Harry waking up to his normal regime of exercises, training with Sun Gao, of which he had to enchant his bo to be strengthen to the hardness of steel, though not as heavy, and be retractable to the point that it almost looked like another wand, although it was a bit thicker. Deciding to get himself another wand holster, preferable made out of graphorn hide as well, in hopes that he could conceal this new 'tool of the trade'. Forgoing a venture out into Diagon Alley due to the fiasco that broke out Saturday, the raven haired teen donned his leather jacket and placed a very subtle glamour charm on his forehead that gave the appearance of slightly thicker hair, a fairly hilarious spell he learned about from Sirius' personal library from the Dog House, so as to block the very of his scar and walked down Knockturn Alley.

Passing by dark, dingy and overall, weird shops, Harry was offered many things from used books to discount manicure. In fact the extremely ugly lady he saw before his second year that he thought was selling nails was, in fact, displaying types of nail polish she did at her salon. Be it better then selling nails, Harry had no intention of getting his painted in any fashion, so he kept on walking.

He stopped right in front of Gladrag's, however not to window shop. He was looking across the way to where Bertha's Brothel used to stand was now a lot with metal support beams in place. The only thing that it could be in that exact area would be the future site of Fairy Tails, the joint venture between Lee Jordan, the Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter himself. _Wow, wizarding contractors move fast_ thought Harry as the crew continued working following the orders of two men.

One of these men was portly, but in a benign way unlike Uncle Vernon, while the other could only be Lee Jordan as far as Harry could tell, due to the dreadlocks that hung under a white hard hat.

"Quite impressive," said the cute brown haired girl with a butterfly tattoo that Harry had met a week ago.

"Yes," replied Harry trying to remember what her name was, "Olivia right?"

"I see you remembered Ha…umm…" she had clearly forgotten his name, "Henry?"

"Close," he replied, "But it's Harry."

She blushed, abashed that she forgot his name, "Err…sorry about that."

"It's okay, don't worry about," replied Harry, "So how's business?"

"Much better after the Brothel moved out," replied Olivia as she gently played with her lip ring, "And now with this nightclub coming in, business should be bumming in no time. Really I'm just glad that my dad got the contract to build it."

"Oh," replied Harry and tried to play dumb a little, "Is he the one over there next to that guy in dreadlocks."

She nodded, "Would you like to meet him? He's quite a nice guy."

"Not really, sorry," replied Harry, "I mean, he looks kind of busy right now."

"True," she replied.

"So what are you doing today?"

"Nothing much, about to go on my lunch break actually," she added, the hint not really hidden at all.

"Would you like some company?" asked Harry.

"Sure," she replied as she took out her coin bag check how much she had.

"I'll cover it," said Harry as he pushed money bag off to the side, there hands touching briefly, "I insist."

"Oh no," she replied, "I could never…"

"Olivia, forget about it," he said as a quick memory flashed to him of the Thomas brothers, "I like to be a gentleman sometimes."

"Just sometimes," she asked.

Harry rolled his eyes as he started walking backwards in front of her, keeping his eye on the construction site and hoping no one recognized him as he thought to himself,_ she clearly doesn't know I'm Harry Potter_, "So where do you want to eat?"

"How about Alderton's Answer?" she offered.

"Alderton's Answer?" questioned Harry, "Never heard of it."

"Follow me," she said and led him through winding alleys until they stopped in what appeared to be the wizarding equivalent of a dinner.

As they walked in, Harry noted the wooden booths that lined the walls, with an opening at the end of the other side where a cook levitated plates of food for the waitress to pick up. Everything was moving so fast that Harry barely noticed that he was being pushed into his seat. Just as he picked up the menu the middle aged waitress came over wearing a beige robe with quill in her hand and a piece of parchment in the other.

"What'll it be deares?" she asked with a fake smile that seemed to have been practiced for year.

Olivia ordered something for herself that Harry couldn't hear, while he ordered a steak and kidney pie.

"So what Charter you go to?" asked Olivia.

"Actually I go to Hogwarts," replied Harry.

"Really?" asked Olivia, Harry nodded, "I went to Hogwarts for awhile, as did my sister, we left a few years ago because times got rough for dad. Me and my sis, Sally-Ann, now attend Lufkin Charter in the south east."

"I don't really know that much about the Charters, or the wizarding world at all," He replied, "I mean, I know some, it's just…I was muggle raised."

She tilted her head to one side before shaking her head and muttering 'nah, it can't be'.

"Who was the last Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that you had at Hogwarts," asked Harry.

"Professor Lupin," she replied, "I heard about the others two you guys had over the past two years, sport of bad luck."

"You can say that again, however this year's is pretty awe inspiring," informed Harry.

"How so?" asked Olivia.

"He taught Lupin from what I gathered," replied Harry as he took a bite of his food.

"Wow," breathed Olivia.

"How come I never saw you at Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

"Well, I didn't have all of this face jewelry or the tattoo," replied Olivia as the butterfly gave a double flap of it's yellow and blue wings, "And you probably weren't in my house, I left as a fourth year Ravenclaw."

_Do I have a thing for Ravenclaw girls?_ Thought Harry, "Really? You're a year older then me. I'm going to be a sixth year Gryffindor."

"Really?" asked Olivia, "My sister would be a sixth year Gryffindor if we hadn't left. Do you room with Harry Potter?"

"Err.." _what the bloody hell do I do now?_ "Sorta…"

"Do you know him well?" she asked.

"I guess you could say that…" replied Harry feeling uncomfortable.

"Oh," replied Olivia going beat red, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"It's okay," replied Harry slightly relieved, "Lets just change the subject, yeah?"

"Sure," she replied, then she gained a mischievous smile, "So tell me, Mr. Harry, do you normally take out older women to lunch?"

Harry pressed his Gringott's card to the receipt and paid for lunch, "Not only do I take older women out for lunch, but I also walk them back to their job."

On the way back to Gladrag's Harry and Olivia talked about their friends and school exploits. Harry had to water his down a little, or else he would be given away to easy. Just as he was opening the door to let Olivia in her heard the voice of the one person that could have wrecked it all.

"OI HARRY!" yelled Lee as he ran over.

"Harry?" questioned Olivia, trying to connect the man her father was working for and the person who just bought her lunch.

"Heya Harry," replied Lee when he caught up to the two, "Sorry to be interrupting you and all, beg your pardon Miss, but I thought that since you are a partner with me, you might want to talk to the contractor."

"Lee, this is really not a good time," replied Harry as he stared at his business partner.

"I was going to see if could find you," said Lee, "And as luck would have it partner, you just show up out of the blue."

"Yes, as _luck _would have it," replied Harry.

"Harry, did he say partner, and how does he know you?" asked Olivia.

"You don't know Harry?" asked Lee slightly shocked, "I mean everyone in the Wizarding world knows Harry Potter!"

Harry ran his hands over his face as Olivia gasped. _Why did you have to do it Lee? Why?_ Harry took a quick glimpse through his hands at Olivia to see her hands covering her mouth and starring in awe at Harry. _I hope they don't all do this_, thought Harry to himself. She was trembling, and all the colour had drained from her, leaving the butterfly tattoo to flap its wings and stand out more.

The only thing Harry could think of at the moment, beside what a thumping he was going to give Lee, was to stick out his hand for a hand shake with Olivia.

"Harry James Potter," he said as he shook her hand, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Olivia."

For her part, Harry was happy to see her try and smile as she shook his hand back, "Olivia Oona Perks, and I think the pleasure's all mine."

Harry received a quick image of a bed that was not a thought of his own.

**

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****A/N:** hopefully you all enjoyed this longer chapter. I originally wanted to make it longer, but found that if I tried to, I would blow past my dead line. I hope you've enjoyed it, and please, as always, tell me what you think. 

I believe that it is time for me to remind you that Harry Potter will not once find his soul mate in my writing. He might have a few girlfriends, but as he gets closer to the war effort, he will stop dating. There will be no set couples in this story that are not cannon.

This will **_not_** turn into Severitus in any way shape or form. I know that the British adult version of the 6th book has a Potions text book, but I have my way to explain it, believe it or not, there is actually a plot to all of this.

The wand wiggling thing that Snape did is how the Order communicates with each other. If they did it through an object, like the D.A. with fake Galleons, then they could be taken and used to track Order members (that haven't been ratted out by Podmore) and meeting times. A spell is the only way I could see as communication between Order members with out getting compromised. And just so you know, the Thomas boys and other muggles with wizarding connections that are helping have a contact with the Order through another member that is watching them (the Order is really big and secretive, I'm trying to set it up like Wizarding equivalent to MI5 or the CIA).

The connection between Harry and Voldemort will play a big role…

It's very late right now, and I can't really think. Sorry, but I'm not mentioning individuals who reviewed the last chapter, It's just too late to do it. I will thank everyone, though, that did review. Thank you all.

forfie

P.S. check out my profile, I added some personal information stuff to it, along with the group I set up on MSN a long time ago. It holds pictures of Harry's tattoos and some weapons. I thought all of you might want to have seen what I've been talking about for these past 8 chapters.


	9. The Way of the True Knight

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the world that was created by the all mighty, JKR. If it is the first time you have seen a character, it is either mine, or a character of JKR's that I brought yup to play a role. However, some of my original writing can be viewed on sister site same username.

This is the unbeta'd version, but that should soon be fixed because of my lovely new beta Nita.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

By forfie

Chapter 9.) The Way of the True Knight

Harry was not in the best of moods. A girl he thought was cute was now head over heals for him because of the perception of grandeur his named carried with the public. Harry loathed being seen as the 'Boy-Who-Lived', a poster child for a theme that has switched from savior to nut case and then to tragically misunderstood. He would give anything to be normal, but Harry also realized he was far from normally. And as such, women have opinions on him formed from reading articles from _Witch Weekly_ and _Teen Witch Weekly_.

_Awful_ thought Harry on how the public could be so persuaded by the written word. _I think Dudley said it best when he envied me for not having wizarding T.V._ continued Harry, _just imagine how impressionable they would all be then!_ Harry would rather people see him for himself, but the lighting bolt scar given to him by Voldemort that marked the right side of his forehead prevented that.

He had enjoyed the past two weeks of anonymity that allowed him to walk down Diagon Alley unmolested from the public. _What had changed that? _Thought Harry to himself as he sipped at his orange juice in the morning waiting for the _Daily Prophet_, in actuality it was Moony's paper, but Harry recently started reading it because of a request from Sun Gao.

What had changed Harry's time in Diagon Alley was a multitude of things. First was the picture and ensuing article from _Teen Witch Weekly_ that outlined Harry's supposed work out schedule, which included mysterious forms of martial arts that even Sun Gao confided he new nothing about. Such a publicity stunt made Wok's Magical and Martial Art Studio the most sought after store now, so much so that Mr. Wok, who happened to be a close friend of Sun Gao and owned said martial arts studio, was booked for classes well into the future. Whether it was a plan from the Order for Harry to be seen or not, the situation had still turned out well because this now ensured that the magical public of Britain would have some training for the up coming war.

The second thing was how many people noticed what clothing Harry Potter wore. Another thing Harry wasn't sure if the Order had setup or not by tipping off the teeny bopper magazine, and as such the influx to by more muggle like clothing helped out the only two distributors of such venues: Madam Malkin's muggle clothing section and Gladrag's. Olivia, Harry decided that while she didn't notice much close up, predict well into the future.

_Olivia_ Harry inwardly groaned, _what am I going to do about her?_ Ever since Lee had told her that he Harry was in fact _the_ Harry Potter, she had been after him in a way that was not all to subtle. Such…intensity…was not something that attracted Harry, which he did tell her gently and for his sake, as well as that for Lee, Fairy Tails, the Order of the Phoenix and Mr. Perks, Harry remained friends with Olivia. _It could never hurt to have contacts outside of Hogwarts_ Harry concluded.

The third, and final, action that had really changed Harry's life was the fact that some how, again he speculated the Order, the _Daily Prophet_, the real reason why he thought Sun Gao requested he read the paper each morning now, found out that Harry owned part of the upcoming nightclub. Again, just as with the muggle style clothing and exercise, wizards and witches started reserving parties in the private parlours and already a waiting line was forming, and the _walls_ weren't even up yet! The talk Harry had with Lee and Mr. Perks, who insisted that Harry call him Peckham, of which Harry couldn't even think of with a straight face, had outline the work that would be done in the next for months. The predicted opening for the nightclub was October 31, a date Harry wasn't to sure of as it was the death date of his parents, but agreed to none the less trusting Lee and the Order that it would have the biggest turn out night. _Hopefully no Death Eaters turn out_ thought Harry bitterly.

And as the _Prophet _had found about Harry's part ownership of Fairy Tails, they also found out about his silent ownership of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, and the typical population did the typical action when they found out that Harry Potter, 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', owned and subconsciously endorsed the Weasley twins. _The Order must be getting some serious money from this_ thought Harry, _maybe I shouldn't have told Dumbledore I would help out in anyway I could… _

This past week had been more hectic for Harry then the past sixteen years of his life, and considering that also included O.W.L.s, it was a big statement to make. No longer could he apparate to Diagon Alley and walk to train with Sun Gao, he had to have Dumbledore set up a portkey for him to avoid the extra crowded streets. His training was now done in a back room, so that Mr. Wok could actually train the other clientele, and he could complete his in peace. Sun Gao thought that since Harry was under so much Public scrutiny as of late, the rave haired teen should not learn anymore martial arts, as it would lead to too much speculation. What this meant for Harry was going for 3 to 5 hours straight of nothing but practicing moves, again, and again. The monotonous morning was broken for an hour lunch, in which Harry was watched by a not so secret Order member, however Emmeline Vance made an interesting luncheon partner.

It seems that the stately-looking woman was in fact a pureblood that was similar in thought of that of Sirius, Dumbledore and the Weasleys. Though, unlike some of them, her family instilled in her an exaggerated air that Harry could only think of as imposing dignity. The reason she was shadowing Harry in Diagon Alley for the past two weeks was made clear two days ago to him from Mrs. Vance; the law office she, her husband, Mycroft, and their daughter, Vena, all worked at was situated in Diagon Alley. Seeing as the others could handle the business, Dumbledore asked her to watch over Harry, considering that anyone seeing Emmeline would not think her out of place for a midday stroll.

Another place he would frequent when he had the chance, and when it wasn't too crowded, was Gladrag's. He would have some conversation with Olivia, who also introduced him to random friends of hers that might have been in that day, as well as the rest of the staff. Harry seemed to get along with everyone, it was either that or the fact that they all wanted to be known as knowing _the _Harry Potter.

Harry sighed deeply as a brown owl entered the flat dropping off the morning _Daily Prophet_ and sticking out it's leg with the leather purse attached. Harry tossed in seven knuts and watched the owl fly away. Looking over the cover of the paper, Harry saw nothing major, no attacks on Azkaban Auror Academy, an extra fifty Russian Zansteps (their version of Auror) were to visit the Academy in a week, adds for some random stores.

_Hmm…_ thought Harry, _the Harpies are playing Puddlemere at Bodmin Moor, maybe Remus can swing us a few tickets…_ Then Harry saw an article with his name.

**Potter to be recruited for England's Under 17's**

Written by Otto Bagman, _Daily Prophet_ sports correspondent

LONDON— At long last recognition to one of England's greatest and most famous player in history is finally getting some recognition on the pitch.

Harry Potter, or more commonly known as the Boy-Who-Lived, has yet another title to make him famous. "When I saw the kid during his third year, I was well surprised that he played better then some of the professional seeks I've seen," replied Tony Raven, coach for England's under 17 league, on the performance of Harry Potter in the pitch.

The Boy-Who-Lived started playing quidditch during his first year at Hogwarts after a mishap during his first flying lesson displayed the natural talent that was running through his veins. He was the youngest quidditch player in a hundred years, an impressive title for one to be hold, and has only truly lost one match in his career thus far. Upon hearing this, Coach Raven started to personally look at the young professional.

"Shame what happened last year," continued Raven, "After he caught the snitch in a spectacular move, he gets taunted by the losing team. I wish I could say the sore losers got to worst of the ordeal when Harry and one of the beaters had to be pulled off of him, unfortunately it was not so."

Because of his actions that day on the pitch, Harry, and two fellow teammates of his were banned by the former Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Dolores Jane Umbridge, for life. However, when the Quidditch Union for the Administration and Betterment of the British League and its Endeavors (Q.U.A.B.B.L.E.) heard of this unjust ruling, a legal motion was put in place against Mrs. Umbridge for abuse of power and blatant disregard of Chapter 3, sections 2 and 3 of the Quidditch Authority Managing Charter which states that "the removal of any player can only be on a seasonal basis if said player is part of a not-for-profit organization or team," and as Hogwarts is an educational facility, thus falls under the above category. In addition, section 3 outlines that "only punishment for individual players can be distributed by the captain, coach and/or manager of said individual." Mrs. Umbridge was neither manager, nor coach nor captain of the Gryffindor team, the punishment was ought not to have been distributed by her. The final straw for legal motion was found in the last paragraph of section 3, which states that "any player that provokes another play in an unsportsmanlike like conduct should be held accountable for the actions of the person(s) he/she provokes," and as no punishment was dealt to said instigator, the ban on Mr. Potter and his fellow Gryffindor beaters was dropped.

"I'm excited to hear that he's back," says Raven, "I really want to offer him a position for the England's under 17 team, and those beaters were pretty great together too. Harry Potter could be greater then Viktor Krum, think of what that would mean for England in a few years!"

Tony Raven plans to contact Harry within the week so as to set a date for a personal try out, though it is my belief that Raven has already made his decision.

_Whoa…_thought Harry as he reread some of the article again, _me play semi-pro-quidditch and then possibly professional for England? This is definitely a chaotic week. Why am I that last to know about this?_ Harry cut out the article to reread it later, _perhaps I won't have to follow Fred and George's idea job for me._

Continuing onwards into the paper, Harry found yet another article that caught his attention, more for the author of one of his school books, then for any other reason.

**A New Era of the Unknown**

Written by Politik Muckraker, outside source

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA— I believed that the so called 'New World Order' would be complete with the fall of my home country from the backwards communist society it once was, however, now I see that my naive ideas were just that: naïve.

It was not two days ago that I returned home from my two week vacation in England. I rather enjoyed it for a multitude of reasons, one being the reason I write this article. As I was walking down the famous street, Diagon Alley, I noticed something was off. I walked for a good thirty minutes before realizing exactly what had put me off so. No one that was under the age of fifty donned wearing robes.

And just so my concerned readers won't think that all English wizard and witches were walking around naked, although it was hot enough that I wouldn't have minded shedding a few layers, I assure you all that everyone was wearing clothing. Non-Magical people's clothing to be exact.

England seems to be the focal point of the wizarding world not because the two major dark lords of the past fifty years came from the area, but because it is the country that is growing itself outwards after the affects of two major wars, and a third in the making. The whole wizarding, and some of the muggle too I must admit, world is looking upon England to end their troubles before it becomes all of our troubles.

Now, how can non-magical people's clothing and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's second rising be connected? Some may say Harry Potter, but that is not a full answer in my opinion, for charmed non-magical people's clothing had been an option to all of us, like when in the mid 80's Gladrag's tried to promote non-magical wear in Diagon Alley, only to have it catch on some ten years later.

I do not know who might be pulling the strings behind this war, but I do know that the infiltration of said clothing, along with the plans for a nightclub that Mr. Potter has a hand in also, will have two actions.

The first, is that the gap between wizards, witches and non-magical people is getting smaller. I will not be so presumptuous as to say that we shall assimilate into their culture because I personally believe that will never happen as long as the big difference, magic, still defines us. However, this little tactical maneuver can show, and remind, a few of us that the non-magical people of the world, although lacking magic, are still human beings and no less worthy of existing then wizards and witches. It is a big point to understand when you compare where this mentality is supposed to steam from: t-shirts and pants.

The second, is more a reaction then an action. Since the emptying of Azkaban and the disappearance of every single inmate, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not had any major attacks on the wizarding populace of England. I have several fears in this respect. One is that the Dark Lord is not focusing his power in England, but in another, more spread out country where he can exist and house over five hundred followers freely. Or, two, he is planning an act of terrorism so horrible, heinous and grandiose, Wizarding Britain will not know what hit them.

The question of 'will the non-magical clothing do what it was intended for' rests in the fate of statistics of casualties, for there will be a war. There is no denying that. And it will be grander then all wars seen before, but will the Auror force that is stationed in Britain be enough to stop that of the zealous Death Eaters, whose goal is to widen the gap between non-magical folk and our selves, or completely destroy it but killing all of them off.

By now you should all be worried what tomorrow will bring you. I am the same way as you all are, this future is uncertain. However, there is one certainty for one individual, and he seems to be the most vocal in the collaboration between magical and non-magical worlds. Harry Potter will have to face a tougher time then us all.

"True," muttered Harry as he folded up the remains of the newspaper. The last article had wrecked his appetite because of the austere speculation Mr. Muckraker wrote was in actuality a fact for Harry. _Prophecy_ he thought as he walked into his room, line by line replaying in his head, _you know what you got to do…_ He needed socks, his feet were cold and he needed to get ready to go to train with Sun Gao, the portkey would leave soon.

Harry opened his up his trunk as he tried to reason with his head. Upon reaching in, Harry felt a bit of cloth that was wrapped up, as well as a piece of dry folded parchment next to it. Not remembering what either item was, Harry took them both out of his old trunk and placed them on his bed.

Harry undid the bit of cloth; he revealed the one thing that would have made last year so much easier, that is if he actually had thought about it. Miniature reflections of his messy black hair, rounded spectacles, vibrant green eyes and about a day's wroth of stubble on his face, Harry realized two things.

One, he needed to shave, and bad. _How could I have lest myself grow this much_ he thought as he rubbed his course cheek. The second was that no matter what, it was impossible to change the past with out the aid of a time turner, and even using one of those was a big risk._ Mistakes are made_ he rambled onto himself, _big mistakes that could end people's lives, but they are only mistakes in hindsight…_ Collecting the pieces of mirror together, Harry's biggest mistake, all in one mound and wrapped in a black cloth, the teen promised himself to do something with it later as a constant reminder,_ like all my scars…_

Placing the bundle back into his trunk, Harry took the dried piece of parchment. _Hmm, it's not my brand_ he thought as he unfurled it.

Draco Walpurgis Malfoy

Blaise Apollo Zabini

Gregory Grotta Alquemie Goyle

Marietta Specere Edgecombe

Tracey Baffin Davis

Sarah Tempter Fawcett

Lisa Edenderry Turpin

_Dumbledore's list_ Harry remembered as if it was given to him a long time ago, _of the people he wants me to have in the D.A. He wants me to invite Malfoy, is he insane? He did hum that 'Ta Ra Ra Boom De Ay' thing yesterday. I hardly even know half these people! And Edgecombe too? She ratted on us all! _Goyle_, he wants me to invite that idiot into the D.A.? He cant even use a wand properly, let alone think. He would kill us all accidentally!_

Frustrated, Harry folded the letter haphazardly and threw it into his trunk, and sighed as he relaxed on his bed for a few minutes before laughing out loud.

"Walpurgis!" he exclaimed to himself between laughs, "Malfoy's….middle name…is…WALPURGIS!"

Harry laughed for what seemed to him the ridiculous names that pureblood families gave there children. Though it mostly seemed the ultra-orthodoxy purebloods chose the most bizarre names, others were understandable, like Apollo. Realizing what time it was, Harry quickly changed and grabbed his portkey to a private back training room in Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio to have yet another training session with Sun Gao. Today was more practice with the bo, of which he found a temporary holster of dragon hide because graphorn hide was hard to come by unless a tanner stumbled over the dead carcass of one compared to the collection of hide from dragons that died of natural causes on a reserve, which meant Harry would also be utilizing his most extensively proficient healing charm to relive bruises.

When Harry arrived in the backroom of Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio, there were two people in a heated discussion in another language. One was noticeably Sun Gao in his grey Shaolin Monk robe attire as usual. The other was a face he never thought he would see in the wizarding world. Garbed in heavy, dark robe with the hood down made the pale features his face stick out more profoundly, along with his dark brown hair, stood the man that Tonks was trying to pick up at the Hogshead during his birthday after-party.

Sun Gao raised one of his aged hands to stop a clearly distraught man from talking and turned to Harry.

"Chwen, I'm sorry about not be completely prepared for the lesion," and then he inclined his hand toward Ratai before continuing, "May I introduce you to a…colleague of mine, Ratai Rumianetsev Rudomet."

"I believe we chave already met," replied Ratai in his Russian heavy accent as he extended his gloved hand to shake Harry's, "But it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again Charry."

"You're not a muggle?" asked Harry before he could stop himself, and winced at what he asked.

Ratai let out a strained chuckle that didn't betray his originally distressed state, "I guess I vas not that truthful in our first meeting. Tell me chow are the others?"

"Fairly well, I guess," replied Harry.

"Tonks?" questioned Ratai.

"She's doing alright, but she will be on vacation in a week," _with me_ thought Harry, as the image traveled to the sandy beaches of Freeport.

"And Dean, chow is che?" asked Ratai, "I mean…che seemed very upset with my presence last time."

Harry got a feeling in the bottom of his stomach, like a weight was sitting there, and he knew that Ratai was lying to him. _Maybe it's like what Dumbledore said about my Legilimency_ thought Harry, _but what does Ratai have to lie about concerning Dean?_ This train of thought was quickly ended by Sun Gao clearly reprimanding Ratai in another language with sounds like 'nikulturny' . With a face for of distress, nervousness and shame Ratai prepared to leave.

"I chave over stayed my velcome," said Ratai, "I vill return later Visshiye Ofitseri General Armii with more information."

"Thank you, Starshiy Leytenant," replied Sun Gao, "Your information has been quite helpful."

With a bow to Sun Gao and a nod to Harry, Ratai adorned his head with his hood and walked out the back way of the martial arts studio. Harry looked at Sun Gao with a portent look of a questioning teenager. As he was about to open his mouth to ask where Sun Gao had met Ratai, and what the Russian's deal was, Sun Gao raised his hand, as he had done to Ratai, to stop Harry from asking.

"Chwen, there are some things you are not ready to learn yet," replied the aged Asian, "But perhaps there are some things I can teach you besides spells and fighting that could be useful."

"Sir?" asked Harry, not venturing to vocalize the unasked question, _what could be more useful then spells and fighting?_

"Chwen," continued Sun Gao, "To have a complete understanding of the world around us, we must understand the language that is communicated within it. As such, you will need to learn some foreign languages."

"Like what you and Ratai were doing," asked Harry as he also thought about when he and Griphook communicate.

"That, Chwen, was Russian," said Sun Gao, "A language that I feel you will have to learn sooner, rather then later. But I would prefer you to learn first the Romance Languages, Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese and Romanian. Then the Semitic Languages and onwards to Russian, German, Mandarin, Hindi along with Sanskrit and some other languages. It will take a long time to complete because languages, like fighting styles, need to be practiced and tuned, especially to achieve fluency. It will help you in the long run."

Knowing not to argue with Sun Gao and his lesson plan, Harry nodded his agreement, "So what language will be first?"

"French because of the country's closeness to Britain," replied Sun Gao as he searched for a book, "You will neurload it, then we will practice for an hour before moving onto physical training."

"Yes, sir," replied Harry as he sat down in the lotus position that he had learned from Sun Gao, and prepared to have the French language downloaded into his brain.

After it took Harry an hour to download the beginner's French guide, Sun Gao held up or conjured random items he asked him to name. Sitting there for an hour naming objects like chair, chain, apple, and man for hour, Harry started to get restless.

"Okay, Chwen, that's enough French for today," said Sun Gao, which caused Harry to sigh in relief, "Time for the physical lesson, grab your bo."

Harry let out a groan as he stood up and flicked his wrist so as to let his retracted bo slide into his palm. Giving it a quick double squeeze so that it reverted back to it's normal size of six feet, Harry got into a proper defensive stance with his legs spread and the left foot moved upwards a bit so as to have a fixed position incase of a side attack. On the balls of his feet, Harry lightly placed his right foot to the side and then his left. Slowly walking in an arch, preparing for what Sun Gao threw at him.

Sun Gao, his bo also drawn, was in a very lose and familiar position. He lunged forward, bo straight, at Harry, who counter-attacked by stepping to the side and trying to swing the bo down in slash to stop his trainer. Right as Harry was going to make contact with Sun Gao, said instructor slammed his bo, point down, into the ground and lifted himself up like a high jumper in the Olympics.

Landing to the side of Harry, who prepared to block, and retracted his bo. Harry was surprised at Sun Gao's action that he lurch mid step in his block, exposing his right flank. Sun Gao ducked under Harry's bo before he lunged forward again at the awkwardly balanced teen. Retracted bo in his hand, Sun Gao pointed one of the ends at Harry's flank before resizing it.

Because of his closeness to Harry, Sun Gao's bo enlarged to hit him in the flank, hard. Said teen was now turned to the side, balanced only on one foot and his flank in tremendous pain at the fast and hard impact of the end of the bo. Sun Gao then swept out Harry's feet, the raven haired teen was put down in less then a minute. Groaning as he lay on his back staring at the candles floating over head, Harry rolled over onto his front and kneeled up. _That's going to bruise_.

"You will find Chwen, that sometimes you need to…what is the term? Think outside of the box," replied Sun Gao.

_Two days_ thought Harry as he was preparing to leave Wok's for lunch. _Two days and I'm in Freeport_ muse Harry_ too bad Remus can't come with me_. Another week had passed for Harry very quickly and in two day he would be leaving for a four room beach house under the supervision of Tonks. He would not be training for a war, he would not think of a damned Prophecy, and he most certainly would _love_ to get away from this…limelight.

The only regret Harry had was that he had to leave Remus alone, well not so much alone considering he still had to tutor Hestia Jones on her Russian, it still didn't make it feel right. Harry was not anxious to leave all his friends and family behind, he was more anxious to get some place that just wasn't so…enclosing. He would put up with Tonks as his minder, just for the sake of the Order and Dumbledore. Not to mention, Tonks was also Sirius' second cousin, and would be feeling the pain of his loss as well as the pain from the Department of Mysteries.

_Tonks sure knows how to act _thought Harry about the only time he had seen her so far in the summer. Both of them were supposed to leave from the same portkey from the Dog House in two days. _Two days away_.

However, it was not two days yet. Harry still had one last training session with Sun Gao and as of right now, and currently he was being tailed by Emmeline Vance as usual. Shortly she would pull up to Harry and they would walk together to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. _5…4…3…2…1…Now…._

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," replied Mrs. Vance as she appeared on Harry's left hand side.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Vance," replied Harry cordially and respectfully, "Would you like to join me for lunch today?"

"I would be delighted too," she replied in an even tone, "Perhaps you will allow me to pay for myself this time."

"Mrs. Vance, if you knew me that well, why bother ask that question," said Harry.

"Alas, always the gentleman," replied the guard as Harry opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron for her, immediately the crowd quieted down as it always did when Harry walked in for his luncheon.

"Your usual parlour is already prepared, Mr. Potter," replied Tom, the barkeep, as he gestured Harry to one of the private parlours in back.

"Thank you Tom," said Harry, "And please, call me Harry."

"Certainly Mr. Potter," replied Tom as he was leaving Harry and Emmeline alone, forgetting to call Harry by his first name, "The waitress will be right in Mr. Potter and Mrs. Vance."

Harry helped Mrs. Vance into her seat before he took his seat. Already know what he was going to have, Harry pushed his menu aside.

"Tell me Harry," began Mrs. Vance as she read her menu, "Is there no possible way I could convince you to marry Vena?"

Harry chuckled lightly, "I'm sorry Mrs. Vance, but I have had a tonne of marriage proposals thus far, and even though I'm quite tempted, I have to refrain. I am a dangerous person to be around."

"Regrettably so," replied Mrs. Vance as she pushed her menu to the side, as the waitress came in and took their orders and then left them alone once again, "Does there happen to be anything knew in the world of Harry Potter?"

"I imagine so," replied Harry in French, although he could speak, he was only at a fourth grade level of understanding the language, "But does the world of me really need anything new in it?"

"Very good!" pronounced Mrs. Vance in fluent French, "This Sun Gao is a very good professor, I imagine you can learn many things from him."

"Do you want to continue speaking in French?" asked Harry, "It will help me learn it better."

"True," replied Emmeline, "How are your businesses going?"

"You should be able to tell me," replied Harry, "The Order is also partners with me, and I take it you handle all the legal matters."

"You are correct Mr. Potter," replied Emmeline in French.

"Mrs. Vance, please call me Harry," said Harry as he took a sip of water, "I've been thinking, I'm going to need someone to look over my legal records besides Griphook. Don't get me wrong, I trust him, actually I owe him, it's just…prejudice in the wizarding world runs deep."

"I understand, Harry," replied Emmeline slowly so that he could understand what she had to say, "And I would except your offer if it were not for the war. If someone were to find out I handle both you and the Order, then my family and I would be done for, something I could not live or die with on my conscious."

"I would never wish to have that happen," replied Harry earnestly slipping into English.

"French Harry, only French," tutted Mrs. Vance, "And thank you for your honesty."

Harry looked at the outlined scars on his hand, "I try," he said in French again.

"I happen to know two fine gentleman that would not mind working with you nor a goblin," continued Emmeline Vance.

"Yes," prodded Harry, _Maybe they could help me out with that thing Fred and George talked about._

"Shea Devlin Cripps is an accountant, he has a few good years under his belt and considering he is only twenty-eight, it's quite remarkable," replied Emmeline.

"Is he…does the…Order?" Harry stumbled around looking for the right word.

"He's perfectly fine, no connections to Death Eaters or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that we know about," replied Emmeline as she took a bit of her lunch.

"And the other?" asked Harry.

"Well, he is already connected to the Order," replied Vance as she wiped her lips a little, "He's a member and helped us out with… Sirius' will."

Harry nodded showing that it wasn't affecting him, _I can talk about him but going places were he has been is just too much_.

"Graham Kellpurn was Sirius' attorney, and I highly doubt he would refuse you as a client," continued Vance, "He is a member of the Order, and tries to make sure there is a loop hole for every action taken or advises us not to take it. I admit that I'm good, but he can look into some of the more arcane laws that were set up by the first ministry."

"If you were me, would you hire them?" asked Harry.

"My question, Harry, is why you would need to hire them?" asked Vance.

"Well…I was given an idea of a business opportunity for myself from some close friends," said Harry.

"I see," replied Mrs. Vance, "Then I would hire them, yes."

Harry smiled broadly, "Thank you, Mrs. Vance. When should I contact them?"

"When do you want to start it up by?" asked Emmeline.

"Before the unveiling of Fairy Tails," answered Harry.

Mrs. Vance just scrunched up her nose upon hearing the name of the future nightclub, "Then I say contact them after your first week of school, your life's too hectic right now, settle down a bit first and get into a schedule."

"Thank you once again," just then Tom open the door holding a rolled up parchment in hi hand.

"Mr. Potter, and owl just delivered this, sir," said the toothless barkeeper.

"Thank you Tom, the meal was wonderful, give my compliment to the chef," said Harry as he took the letter and Tom left, _I wonder who it could be_.

"Should I leave Mr. Potter?" asked Emmeline.

"Sit, please," replied Harry, "I never get letters about anything major."

He unrolled the parchment.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I realize that this letter has been delivered to you later then I would have expected to send it. I apologize for this but the team has come under some difficult times as of late. First, I would like to congratulate you on your re-admission into the noble sport of quidditch. What you, Fred and George Weasley had to go through will never happen again. I knew Headmaster Dumbledore told you awhile ago that you were now allowed to play quidditch for your house again. I hope you have tried to get out somewhere to get in a flight or two so as to de-rust the funk some players get in after being off for nine or more months.

The second thing I would like to do is introduce myself. I am Anthony MacRaven, but most people refer to me as Tony Raven, and I am the head coach for the English under 17's team. Unfortunately, the contents of this letter were already known to some of the staff, who happened to talk to the press against my will. I will also admit that I am not the brightest person in the world too because I did talk with an old friend of mine, Otto Bagman, forgetting that he was a reporter for the Prophet's sports section. However, that article was a 100 true, I am offering you a spot on this year's team.

Unfortunately, to be put on the team you would have to go through a try out. But through my powers, I waived that league ruling. I was able to get the league to waive it so long as I and an unbiased party watched how you performed at your next game. Should be no problem considering I've seen you play before, I already have the papers drawn up for your accountant and lawyer to over look, and for you to sign. To say I'm excited not only to have Harry Potter, but also to have a ridiculously amazing seeker on my team would be an understatement.

The first game for Gryffindor, I found out from Madam Hooch, will be October 27th. I hope to see you there and sign you to the team.

Sincerely,

Tony Raven, England's Under 17's Head Coach and Q.U.A.B.B.L.E. member

_I thought that was bollocks?_ Thought Harry.

"Is everything all right, dear?" asked Mrs. Vance.

"Y...ye…yes, Mrs. Vance," replied Harry as he folded up the letter to place in his pocket, "I was just offered a position on the England's under 17's team."

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter!" exclaimed Mrs. Vance, "That is quite the accomplishment."

"Thank you Mrs. Vance," replied Harry, "I think we need to get back now though."

Emmeline Vance checked her watch, and the boy was quite right. She smiled at him as he helped her from the chair and they started walking back onto Diagon Alley. She walked up next to his shoulder and quietly said that she would walk five paces behind him so as not to draw attention.

They got within view of the of Wok's Magical and Martial Arts Studio when Harry stopped still because of piercing cold on his chest that he had only felt once before. Emmeline Vance immediately approached him.

"What is it Harry," she asked.

"My pendant went off," he replied.

"Your…pendant," asked Emmeline put off.

"Yes, it warns against bad omens," he said, turning to look at her as the crowd kept on moving around them, "Contact the Order now, something isn't right."

"Harry, I can do this in the open, it's a secret spell," replied Emmeline Vance.

"Quickly, Mrs. Vance," replied Harry as he shifted his gaze around expecting something.

Then all of a sudden his pendant gave him another sharp pang of coldness. As he felt the coldness leave his body, he saw the fire first. The used bookstore that was next to Patrick's Prick Parlour was engulfed in flames on the inside. Harry was about to turn to Emmeline to tell her to contact the Order, but no sounds could be heard from his mouth as the searing flames from the used bookstore circled the windows before blowing forward.

Flames hotter then five hundred degrees blew out ten feet in front of the shop. The glass that was in the windows flew out along with the flames. The explosion continued as rock from the building was thrown forwards at an incredible rate. Harry watched this all moving in slow motion before he heard and felt the shock wave that pushed everyone within thirty feet of the shop to the ground.

**_BOOM! _**

Harry was lying with his face on the ground. He stood up slowly and a bit disoriented as sounds kept getting softer then louder, the only constant was the thump of his heart. Luckily for him, Harry was just far enough away that he didn't get hit with fire, glass nor brick. Unfortunately, Harry could count at least twenty bodies on the ground, some burnt extremely badly, other bleeding from various areas. Some of these people would never get up again.

The crowd was rushing past Harry and Emmeline, who was also not affected physically save for her nerves, screaming their heads off. _The Death Eaters haven't marked it yet_ thought Harry as he looked around, _they're not done…_

"Emmeline," said Harry softly, "Go get the Order."

"Not with out you," she said, "I was sent here to protect you."

"Apparate with me then," replied Harry, "Count of three."

She nodded, both still looking around warily around at the carnage on the street.

"One…two…" counted Harry, as he looked his minder in the eye, "Three"

There were three cracks of apparation. Emmeline made one as she disapparated to 12 Grimauld Place, and Harry made two as he just apparated two steps behind him, thus causing the two cracks. He looked around and took out his wand from the graphorn holster, preparing for the worse. He felt a sudden pressure on his shoulders. To test his theory he tried to apparate, finding that he couldn't budge.

_Anti-Apparation jinx_ thought Harry_, maybe I shouldn't have even have tricked Vance like that, it gave away I could apparate_. Harry turned around to see nothing except the flaming ruins of what was the used bookstore. Gripping his wand tighter, Harry slowly started to move around.

"Where are you?" thought Harry as he knew that the Death Eaters would have marked their work if they were done.

"_Accio Wand_," drawled and all too familiar voice, "Tsk tsk, Potter, thought you were being trained?"

"Malfoy," sighed Harry, as he turned around to look Lucius Malfoy straight in the face as he was un-masked, "I see that you no longer feel the need to cover your face, though I did think the mask made you look better."

"Potter, you are outnumbered and wandless," drawled Malfoy as four others appeared from behind invisibility cloaks, all of them were probably new recruits considering they all wore white masks to protect their identity, were pointing their wands straight at Harry, "And even if by some miraculous happening you could get your wand back," continued Malfoy as he held Harry's wand out.

As Harry saw his holly and phoenix feather wand being held out in Malfoy's hand, said Death Eater's wand slowly approaching it, it still didn't click what was going to happen to his trusted wand. His companion for the past 5 years in the magical world. He didn't know what was going to happen to the one constant that had always been with him for every adventure. That is, Harry didn't know until Lucius spoke a curse that both Harry new and could perform. But with out a wand, such a curse could not be performed.

"_Abrumpo_," with that one word, Harry's wand was quickly cut in half.

The front half tumbled to the ground and rolled around in the discarded stones and glass useless, utterly useless. Lucius just tossed the remainder of the wand to the ground before pointing his light colored wand at Harry. The teen gently flicked his wrist so that his bo was in his palm, _they can't kill you…only Voldemort can…Prophecy…_

"The great Harry Potter will end with out so much as putting up a fight. Shame, thought that muggle loving fool would have taught you better," Malfoy's wand was still raised and pointed at Harry's heart, "Good-bye Potter, _Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry looked upon the green light as it traveled towards him seeing it move millimeter by millimeter. This was not the first time he had seen the killing curse, not by far. It seemed that it was almost always cast on him at least once every single year. One thought ran through Harry's mind as he was caught staring into this green light that brought death, save for the connection wrought between him and Voldemort, _they can't kill me._

The body tends to have two responses to being attacked. One is called flight while the other is called fight. When the flight command is given to the body from the mind, adrenaline is pumped though out the body. The body also feels the need to empty it's bladder and bowels in preparation for a fast, long run, away from whatever has caused this survival instinct to kick in.

However, others in the face of adversity have the latter physical response. Just like flight, people that fight feel adrenaline released in their blood stream. They tense their muscles, puff out chests to make themselves look more intimidating, and stand straighter to make themselves look taller. Harry was not a flight survival tactic person in this case, and as of such it saved his life.

Without realizing it, Harry's hand doubled grasped his bo, sending it to it's full six foot length. As it was in front of him, it was also closer to the Killing curse, and as such, the curse hit it full on at one end. Protecting Harry from death, just another thing to put under shear dumb luck thought Harry later on.

The end of Harry's bo flared in the vibrant green of the killing curse, the wood ablaze, just as the security desk in the Ministry of Magic that was hit by Voldemort killing curse. Everyone stared in surprise that Harry had cheated sure death once again. One of the new recruits got his nerves back first and tried to fire a stunner at Harry, who didn't even have to move as it flew two feet over his head because of bad aim. Another one of the new recruits decided to take Harry on in a muggle fight.

Harry watched the bulking man move forwarded. He setup in a defensive position, trying to keep his eyes on all of the Death Eaters at once, swiveling his head from side to side. He looked back as the flames that laced the end of his bo for around nine inches, just intense green flame. Harry stepped forward and sung the flaming end of the bo to connect with the man's collar bone. The move that was taught to him by Sun Gao was designed for a full break of the collar bone and causing intense pain in the victim.

As the bo connected with the Death Eater's shoulder, several apparation cracks were heard, as well as the crack of the Death Eater's bone. Harry quickly side stepped and rammed the flaming side of the bo into one of the other Death Eater's stomachs. Several more cracks were heard, the disapparation of Lucius and the other two, but not before they cast the dark mark in the sky. Harry looked around to see Ministry Aurors surrounding the disaster area.

**_Thud_**

Harry turned around to see the Death Eater he hit on the shoulder lying face forward on the ground not moving.

**_Thud_**

Harry turned back around to see the other Death Eater he hit, in the stomach and clearly not fatal, fall over face pointing to the sky as his mask slide lose to reveal the face of Montague, a former Slytherin quidditch player that was stuffed into a vanishing cabinet by the Twins last year. His eyes were cold and unmoving as he stared up at the brilliant sun, the skull and snake dark mark hanging not twenty feet in the air and glittering in its grotesque sparkling green. The black smoke from the used book store was bellowing high in the air as pieces of paper with illegible print on them were scattered in the wind.

Harry let go of his bo, as he stared down into the lifeless eyes of what was a human being. Harry didn't feel his shoulder's being shook until he was slapped in the face. The smack had smarted a little, so he was rubbing it softly, distantly…_this isn't real, I didn't kill him…it wasn't me_.

"Harry," said the low voice of Kingsley Shaklebolt, "Don't worry kiddo, you did the right thing."

Harry looked up at the bald head of Kingsley, whose earring was shining against the light of the fire, and then turned to see Tonks standing on the other side of him with pink, spiky hair. _I couldn't have killed Montague…_

"Harry, we need a statement," said Tonks softly, "Do you think you are able to give one right now?"

Harry looked at the Healers and Medi-Wizards running around trying to help the people that had not already died. The Aurors were body bagging the dead and extinguishing the fire in the used book store, while the Magical Law Enforcers, Hit-Wizard Squad by the looks of it, were trying to keep the citizens away from the crime scene. Harry nodded his head, Tonks and Kingsley were about to take Harry to an area away from the horrendous scene.

"And where are you taking this suspect?" asked a slightly roughed voice belonging to a tough-looking man with wiry grey hair.

"Dawlish, this is Harry Potter," said Kinglsey evenly.

"That's Captain Dawlish," barked the Auror, "And he is still a suspect in this Death Eater attack, and considering he cast the killing curse to bring down two them could be two consecutive life terms."

Kingsley stood right in Dawlish's face, considering that Kingsley was a head taller then the man, Dawlish had to look up to Kinglsey.

"First off, I'm a Captain as well you disgraceful bigot," Dawlish snorted into Kinglsey's face when he said bigot, "Secondly, if you think Harry Potter could be a Death Eater, you're dumber then a door knob. Lastly, you know as well as I do, with Auror private Tonks here to back me up, that Harry did not kill those two men with the Killing Curse, but instead with that stick."

"Which had the flames of the Killing Curse on it," snarled Dawlish.

Kingsley threw the two halves of what used to be Harry's wand at Dawlish, who was only able to catch one, while the other hit his chest and feel to the ground. _I need a new wand_ Harry thought to himself as he went back to watching the exchange still in shock.

"His wand was snapped!" exclaimed Kingsley, "You think he could cast the Killing Curse without a wand, you are dumber then I thought!"

"You will have proper respect for your betters!" barked Dawlish as Kinglsey turned away from him.

Kingsley stopped midway and turned back to Dawlish, "That's it Dawlish, I've had enough. You are hereby being written up for discriminatory action against a fellow, equal ranking officer, as well as impeding an investigation of a crime scene and not allowing the medical exam of a victim. My report along will be corroboratedby Auror Nymphadora Tonks and civilian Harry Potter's testimonies."

Dawlish paled to the lightness of parchment at the prospect of being written up, especially with the testimony of Harry Potter accompanying two Aurors. Not knowing what to do, he turned from the three of them and triedto help the Healers.

Retelling what had happen seemed easy to Harry in this befuddled state. He told Kingsley and Tonks all that had happened. It had felt like the hole incident lasted hours, when in fact it was less the thirty minutes. Kingsley and Tonks hailed a Healer over to check him over. Getting a clean bill of health and an order to sleep of the nerves, Harry was preparing for Remus to pick him up, when both Aurors decided to share some words with him.

"Harry," began Tonks, "You are a not a bad person, you didn't intend to kill those Death Eaters. I don't think many people would know that the fire from the Killing Curse would be as fatal as the curse."

"Kiddo," said Kingsley as he held his shoulder, "It's tough, I know, but you know you didn't mean it, and think of the lives you saved by it happening. That's one of the only things that have kept me going."

"Captain Shaklebolt," replied a young Auror, "We found the cause of the explosion and have a list of casualties."

Harry watched on, as Remus hadn't showed up yet, and Kingsley said, "Please, Rafei."

"The forensic team found that it was a simple fire charm that set the place on fire, but a spark got into the gas lamp line. Blew out outer wall for a good ten foot area. There were twelve deaths so far, including the two Death Eaters," at this point, Auror Rafei side glanced Harry, "Francis Montague and Stephen Kyle, we have another seventeen in St. Mungo's for severe burns and lacerations."

"Thank you, Rafei," replied Kingsley before turning to Harry, "Harry, I know you probably know Montague, but Kyle was a nasty sort that no one would be sad to lose. He was one of the former Azkaban inmates, put in for a fourteen year sentence in '90 for raping two really young girls. Aurors Williamson and Scrimgeor caught him in the act, they were quite glad to catch him first, considering Kyle was resisting arrest and force was required to subdue him. Don't feel any guilt over his death, it would be wasted."

Harry just nodded somberly as he rubbed his arms trying to dispel some of the coldness he was feeling, _I've killed two people_…

Remus came and picked up Harry to bring him back to the flat. No words were exchanged between the two on the way home, for what was there to say? What had happened, had happened, and could never be taken back. Harry sat down on the couch looking at the empty T.V. screen as Remus was fixing something in the kitchen. The messy raven haired teen held his body in a ball, his knees tucked under his chin, trying to feel some warmth. Harry looked down at his once slightly tanned but now pale hands, the slight blue twinge in them didn't go unnoticed. _You… killed_, thought Harry as he looked at his hands, _you ended the lives of two human beings, one of them someone close to your age._

Another part of his screamed out _Self defense, you were defending yourself!_ Harry tried not to listen to the voice that sound like his own, however the voice was persistent. _Self defense_ it screamed, louder and louder. _You have a duty to protect yourself_, the voice said after it had yelled for a long time, _They were Death Eaters, nothing more, they knew that being Death Eater was a win or death agreement. Your not to blame…you didn't know the fire could kill…_

Remus stepped back into the room and properly dropped the ceramic cup of hot tea he had letting the hot liquid spill all over the floor. Harry felt Moony loosely shaking his shoulders, then like a blast, felt warmth enter his body as he inhaled loudly, the air burning his lungs.

"Breathe, Harry," said Remus as he was quickly casting some warming charms on Harry's clothing, "In and out, come on Harry."

Harry started breathing in and out slowly, filling up his lungs. The warmth of his clothing felt so good to him, the pale-bluish colour of his skin was reverting back to his slight tan complexion. _I forgot to breathe?_ He thought to himself as Remus sat down next to him.

"Kingsley said a Healer looked you over," said Remus as he rubbed his worn and stubbly face with one of his hands, his paleness indicated that the full moon was approaching soon, luckily he had started taking doses of his Wolfsbane potion the night before, "I'm surprised they forgot that shock sometimes takes awhile to show, are you okay Harry?"

"I'm fine," said Harry as he tried to relax a bit, trying not to think of anything.

"Harry, you might not want to talk about it," said Remus, "But it will help you."

Harry turned to look into Moony's amber eyes and nodded his consent, told Remus, just as he did Tonks and Kingsley, what had happened and also the thoughts he had about having killed. Remus looked Harry in the eye before speaking to him.

"It's hard, just me I know from experience," said Remus, "But Harry, it was either you or them, and I think you made the right decision."

"Remus, they can't kill me!" exclaimed Harry before he could think about it, _bollocks! I can't tell Moony the Prophecy, not now anyway. _

"Harry, they _can _kill you, or worse, let you live while they kill the people you love," said Remus, a grim look on his face while Harry let out a mental sigh, he almost had to explain the Prophecy, something he was not yet ready to do.

"What's…going to happen now?" asked Harry.

"The people that can be saved, will be. The ones that don't or couldn't make it, will be buried and remembered," replied Remus somberly, "Luckily, the Medi-witches, wizards and Healers got there before the golden hour was over."

"The golden hour?" asked Harry.

Remus got a small smile on his face as he realized his he forgot that Harry still didn't know everything about the wizarding world, "The golden hour is a term Medi-wizards and Healers use. It's the hour after an accident occurs that they are more able to save more people. As the hour goes by, the serious wounds can become fatal, after an hour though, even moderate wounds could be fatal. A good example is 'Mad-Eye's' leg, he lost it to Christian Fiore after a good two hour chase in Cape Wrath in northern Scotland. St. Mungo's can reattach a limb within the golden hour, however, Moody didn't have the strength to apparate back and time was not on his side, so he quickly cauterized the stump and sent a distress call to Auror Central who picked him up fifteen minutes too late for his leg to be reattached."

"What happened to…the Death Eater," asked Harry.

"Christian Fiore…jeez, the last time I thought of him was when I found out he was a Death Eater," Remus shook his head dispelling some of his old memories, "Sorry, it's just no one expected a Hufflepuff to be a Death Eater. He graduated with your father, Sirius and me. His specialty was cutting hexes, notorious for it really, but what he lacked knowledge in was shields and basic medi-spells. Because Moody lost a leg, he took both of Fiore's legs, he bleed to death not even two feet away from Moody. Oh, remember never get on Moody's bad side, oh…you're already there for stunning him."

"Thanks," replied Harry, "Where…where do I go from here?"

Remus sighed heavily, "You pick up the pieces of yourself, put them back together knowing that it won't ever be the same again and think of all the lives you saved today."

"What happens if there are no pieces left?" asked Harry.

"Then you realize that your just like the ones you fight against," replied Remus, "Harry, we should see Ollivander's tomorrow. You need a replacement wand and considering how you attract trouble…"

Harry nodded and stood up, "I need a shower."

"Too right you do," replied Remus, "I'll talk to Sun Gao, I think that's enough lessons for awhile, and I'll try and get you another bo."

"Don't worry about it Moony," said Harry, "I want to stay away from bo's for a while."

Remus nodded in understanding as Harry walked into his room, striping of his sweat and smoke saturated clothing and proceeding into the warm water of his shower. No matter how hard he scrubbed, Harry felt different. He felt…unclean. Harry Potter had made his first kill.

The light twinkle of a bell sounded through out the store Harry and Remus walked into. It had been a long night for Harry, he barely slept, and on the odd chance he could drift off fora few minutes, all he would see would be the eyes of Montague.The groggy haze he had been in was interuptedby nostalgia of not having been in this shabby and narrow store since before his first year. The innumerable amount of dusty thin boxes that were lining the walls wereall holding wands that would one day be in the hands of children.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin and Mr. Potter," greeted Ollivander as he appeared from the back room, his wide perturbing light blue eyes staring straight at Harry, "Ten and one fourth inches, bendable alder with the heartstring of a Chinese Fireball, and eleven inches, supple holly with a single phoenix feather, or was I should say."

"Mr. Ollivander," greeted Lupin, "As I'm sure you know by reading the paper this morning about the attack that happened yesterday, Harry needs a new wand."

"Ahh, yes," replied the Ollivander, "That was one of my better wands I created. Please step up closer Mr. Potter."

Harry stepped forward as Remus sat gingerly on the spindle chair in the corner. Ollivander pulled out a tape measure from the breast pocket of his vest and tapped it with his wand. It sprang into motion and started to measure every bit and piece of Harry's exposed body.

"Wand hand?" asked Ollivander as he was marking down notations on a clipboard as fast as he could.

"Err…right," replied Harry as the tape measure was on his nose measuring both width and then length.

The tape measure soon dropped to the ground as Ollivander summoned it back. He was looking over the numbers on his clip board.

"Grown have we, Mr. Potter," asked Ollivander.

"Err…yes, sir," Harry said as the pale blue eyes were turned back looking into his emerald green eyes.

"Shame I don't have a wand for you," said Ollivander as he started writing on a piece of parchment.

Harry blanched, _Ollivander not have a wand for me? Is that possible?_

"Mr. Ollivander," said Remus from his chair, "Are you certain of that?"

"Quite certain Mr. Lupin," replied Ollivander, "However, if you just wait her for five minutes, I'm sure you will leave a most happy customer."

"Sir," asked Harry and then looked at Remus who just shrugged and sat back in the chair.

Ollivander folded up the parchment into a paper aeroplane and tapped it with his wand three times. The wings of the aeroplane flapped thrice before it shot forward, through the ajar door. Mr. Ollivander then proceed to dust behind the counter and softly hum to himself.

Five minutes had gone by exactly when the door to Ollivander's store was thrown wide open. Remus immediately stood up and drew and his wand out, point it at the door, while Harry stepped back into a defensive position. The door closed behind the man as he leaned against it breathing heavily. His thick, curly black hair bouncing up and down every now and then as he breathed in through his hooked nose , which made a lightly whistling sound. He wiped the beads of sweat with a white hand kerchief that stood out against his slight olive coloured skin.

"Just in time Karapanagiotis," said Ollivander amiably, "I thought you wouldn't be able to make it in time."

"I was not expecting to receive such letter so early in the morning," replied the man in a flat even voice with a slight smile on his face, "I had to abandon my morning cappuccino to make it hear in time."

"I'm sorry, Karapanagiotis, for interrupting you," replied Ollivander.

"Please," replied Karapanagiotis waving away the apology with his hand, "Don't 'pologize, it is an opportunity everyone in my guild has looked forward to."

"Ahh yes," replied Ollivander, "Oh, how rude of me. Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin, this is Skaramagas Karapanagiotis."

"Please, just call me Magas," replied the man of obvious Greek decent.

"And this is Harry Potter," continued Ollivander as he point to Harry and then to Remus, "And Remus Lupin. Karapanagiotis is a wandcrafter."

"Ohh," said Harry in Remus in unison.

"Yes, but what Ollie," Ollivander dropped his duster upon hearing himself referred to as Ollie, "Has forgot to mention is that he refers clients to me when none of his wands fit them, as such I sought of pay him a finders fee. Good haul this month too, two crafts with in a month, first time for everything. Did Ollie take your measurements?"

Magas took out a small bag from his pocket and enlarged it into the black leather Old Gladstone bag it was intended to be. He unclasped the bindings so that the lids fell to the sides. Magas then grabbed the clipboard that Ollivander had been writing on and began reading it before he pulled out two vials.

"Okay, Mr. Potter, I need a sample of your hair and blood."

Harry went right on the defensive, the last time someone took blood from him was whenhe was unwilling used in Voldemort's resurrection. Also, his second year taught him the power of human hair, especially when mixed with Polyjuice Potion.

"Harry, it is part of how crafters determine the right length and material for a wand," said Remus reassuringly.

"Okay," said Harry as he relaxed a bit and pulled out a few strands of his hair, _I'm trusting you on this Remus_.

"Thank you kindly," said Magas as he mixed the hair in a vial with s blue potion, and set it aside for awhile, "Please just stick your finger out."

Harry stuck his finger out to Karapanagiotis, who cast a light numbing charm on it before taking a thin blade out. He pressed the tip to Harry's finger softly, the blood slowly climbing up it. He pulled the knife away, the blood sticking to the blade, Magas then healed the cut. Placing the knife in a beaker, he poured the second vial on it.

Turning back to the first potion, Magas pulled out a piece of parchment. He poured the liquid on a corner of the paper. The potion turned green and then spread out in a straight line. Harry watched in amazement as the parchment glowed blue for an instant before a numerical notation was printed in the bottom right hand corner.

"Hmm…" pondered Skaramagas Karapanagiotis, "Well it seems your wand is going to be made out of kingwood and measure in at thirteen and five-eighths inches. Lets see about your cores, yea?"

Harry nodded, high confused on the processes, _and Neville went through this too?_ Though Harry. Magas then took the blood and potion soaked blade, and slowly cut it into a block of some stone. Harry wasn't an expert in geology, but what he did know was that a blade had to be _really_ sharp if it could cut and inch deep into rock. Skaramagas then took out another vile and poured the liquid onto the cut within the stone, which began to sizzle and emit grey steam.

After it stopped, Harry looked over at the stone to see a series of runes now etched into it. Magas gasped and dropped the stone.

"Sorry," replied Karapanagiotis as he retrieved the stone with big eyes, "It's just so…"

"Mr. Potter tends to surprise everyone," replied Ollivander and then asked Magas, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all Ollie," replied the Karapanagiotis.

Ollivander frowned as he examined the stone, "Hmm…it seems that you, Mr. Potter, as always, are a very peculiar individual when it comes to wands."

"I'm sorry, but maybe if someone told me what's going on," said Harry slightly frustrated.

"Mr. Potter, it seems that you have three cores for this wand," replied Magas, "Which is completely odd by it's self, let alone what the cores are. Only several crafters have ever made wands for people that required three cores. Rasputin, The Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, King Jei of Youshi, Sun Tzu, Enver Pasha, Ivan Bloch and Herpo the Foul are just some of the very few that had wands with three cores."

"Oh," said Harry only understanding two of the names that Magas mentioned. He recognized Rasputin from the information Remus told him, and Herpo the Foul as the creator of the basilisk. _You kind of remember the creator of a monster that tried to kill you, _thought Harry.

"That aside," continued Magas consulting the stone, "Your cores are highly…unique. The core for this wand is a feather of a threstral with a heartstring of a nundu wrapped around it. All incased in the poison sac of a lobalug."

"Are you kidding me?" exclaimed Remus as he jumped up to look at the stone, "Damnit! I wished I took Ancient Runes now. A nundu? Are you serious…a nundu…they take at least a hundred wizards to take them down! Where would we even get a lobalug to begin with?"

"The threstral and lobalug should be no problem," replied Ollivander, "Both can be found at Hogwarts, I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't mind letting us take one of Tenebrus' feathers, and Dumbledore can talk the Merepeople into harvesting the poison sac from one of their older lobalugs. However, the nundu heartstring would be quite…dangerous to obtain."

"Actually, not so much dangerous as costly," replied Karapanagiotis as he shuffled his feet a little.

"No one has taken down a nundu in over fifty years," stated Remus, "And I highly doubt you can pay a person enough money to get them to go after one."

"Actually, a lot of nundus have recently been taken down in east Africa," replied Magas, "Some big shot hired a team to take down at least twenty of them for wand cores…."

"Voldemort…" said Harry while shaking his head as both Skaramagas and Ollivander flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, "Remus, you know how Gregorovitch is making wands for the Death Eaters?"

"Yes, Harry," replied Remus as he covered the young teens mouth, "However, not many other people know about this."

"Mr. Lupin, I assure you that I know Gregorovitch would be serving He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," replied Ollivander as Magas was staring at him wide eyed, "It is little a secret that he provided wands for individuals that dubbed themselves Death Eaters. However, his work, as good as it is, is still not at the level of a wand created by Ollivander's."

"Or a crafted one from me," added Magas, "But this news is rather…unsettling."

"If you want, I could Obliviate you," replied Remus.

"NO!" shouted Karapanagiotis as held his hands up to block his face, "I rather keep… my memory."

"Would the wand work with out the nundu heartstring?" asked Harry.

Magas bite his bottom lip before responding, "Well, by work do you mean that all the spells back fire? Then it would work perfectly."

"Looks like we need it, how much will it cost us?" asked Harry, Remus was giving him an odd look.

"My contacts last offer was five thousand galleons," answered Magas as he kept his eyes on Remus' wand, "It might have gone down, but this wand would cost you well over seven thousand five hundred galleons."

"No problem," replied Harry as he took out his Gringott's card.

"Are…are…are you sure?" asked Magas, "It's quite expensive."

"Don't worry about it," said Harry as Magas was preparing a receipt, "How long would it take?"

Doing some quick calculation in his head, Magas answered, "Around two weeks, maybe a week and a half."

"Not good," replied Harry, "Here's an extra two thousand galleons, I need it in a week at most."

Skaramagas Karapanagiotis never thought he would make a wand for nine thousand, five hundred galleons in his life. He looked at Harry, his mouth hanging open to reveal his straight white teeth. Harry picked up the image of a winkled olive face, Magas' memory was oozing with an emotion that could only be pride. Harry stepped back mentally from the wandcrafter's memory feeling that he needed to learn what caused these 'memory spikes' so as not to delve into people's personal thoughts.

"Yes, of course Mr. Potter," replied Magas.

"Please, call me Harry," replied the teen.

Magas nodded, shaking Harry's and Remus' hand before putting all of his materials inside of his Old Gladstone bag. He talked briefly with Ollivander in hush tones before telling Harry to expect his wand owled to him in time before he boarded the Hogwarts Express.

"Can't have you getting on board with out a wand now," replied Magas as he shrank his bag and opened the door, "Have a nice day, and thank you once again…Harry."

With a nod to all the occupants of the store, Skaramagas Karapanagiotis left Ollivander's. Shortly afterwards, Remus and Harry bid cheerio to Mr. Ollivander, who vanished to the back of the shop.

Walking out into Diagon Alley sometime around noon, Harry couldn't believe how everything seemed so _normal_. Mothers were dragging children from store to store, the awed faces of kids staring through Quality Quidditch, wizards and warlocks walking and talking in another language that wasn't English. Everything seemed so normal for Diagon Alley. _Not even twenty-four hours ago there was an attack by Death Eaters_, thought Harry, _twelve, no, ten people and two monsters, lost their lives yesterday. Yet Diagon Alley still lives on_

"What's on your mind," asked Remus in French.

"Nothing," replied Harry in French also before turning around to look at Lupin, "Wait, you know French?"

"Yes," replied Moony, "I learned it awhile ago, Sun Gao told me he was teaching you. Sometimes I wonder if there is something he doesn't know."

"The Unforgivables," answered Harry after thinking for awhile, "He never discusses them, so I doubt he knows them."

"He doesn't talk about them for a reason, Harry," replied Lupin as he was looking around the crowd, "It's dishonourable to use them, even in battle. There is no protection against them; it's like killing a person in their sleep."

"Wouldn't that be an advantage," asked Harry.

"No, it shows no strength, no tactical thinking," replied Remus, "It is better to wake your enemy to fight them so that you can prove that you are better then them."

"And if it kills you," asked Harry.

"Then you die in honourable battle," replied Remus, "To die an honourable death is all a warrior can want, that's all Sirius' wanted."

"Did Sirius ever cast an unforgivable," asked Harry as he remembered running through the Atrium and casting the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Not once that I know of," replied Moony, "And he could have many times, but never did he cast an Unforgivable. Neither did your father nor you mother cast an Unforgivable to my knowledge."

Harry sighed, and thanked what ever deity was looking over him that Remus started this conversation in French, "Remus there is something I need to get off my chest."

"Yes," replied Moony.

"That…_night_ in the Ministry," began Harry, "I chased Bellatrix into the Atrium and hit her with the Cruciatus Curse."

"Do you want to do it again?" asked Remus, Harry was completely flummoxed by the question, and it apparently showed, "Harry, do you want to cast that curse on her again?"

"No," answered Harry before thinking out loud, "I want to do worse…me…I…I'm…am I a bad person?"

"No, Harry," replied Remus in a slightly choked voice, "You are not a bad person, you want to avenge Sirius' death, and that's very commendable. I just implore you to honour your parents and Sirius by not using an Unforgivable again, even in dire times."

"I promise never to use anything that would bring me or what I stand for dishonour," replied Harry.

Remus nodded, "I wanted to get you a going away present…"

"Moony, please don't," replied Harry right away.

"Sirius left me a lot of money and I'll be damned if I only spend it on myself," replied Remus sternly, "Besides I owe you a lot of gifts for missed birthdays and Christmases."

Grudgingly, Harry agreed so that he didn't upset Moony, especially this close to the full moon. Harry felt guilty about leaving him before his transformation. Sometimes he wished he was an animagus like his father so as to ease the pain for Moony a bit.

They stopped in front of door that had a worn sign that read: **Obscurus Books**. Remus opened the door for Harry to enter the dimly lit store. It smelled of cigar smoke, old and moldy books with a hint of leather. The walls were lined with tomes, all systematically placed on book selves. The spines of all the books were worn; the letters had either flaked off or started to fade. Of the letters that remained, Harry could tell that most of the books were in foreign languages. Some didn't even look like they could be a language.

"Harry, welcome to one of the few legal dealers of obscure and foreign literature," whispered Remus as if they were in a library, "There is a French section over there."

Harry followed where Remus pointed and started to browse the title of the bindings he could read. _Hmm…_thought Harry as he pushed aside a book buy some person named Count Donatien A.F. de Sade, _Cruelty is Love? No thank you…putting that back. The French have some _very_ sick minds_.

It took Harry around an hour to find three tomes he thought might be very informational. He should Remus the titles he chose, _Les Arts Magiques Mentaux, Le Encyclopédie de Vieux Charmes Français_ and_ Les Vieux Rites de Chevaliers Médiévaux de France_, who agreed that Harry had made several wise choices. They left Obscurus Books weighted down with the three heavy tomes, as well as one book Remus picked out for himself from the Russian section.

The return to the flat was uneventful, and both settled in to begin on one of the new purchases. It was quite relaxing for Harry, just sitting on one of the couches as he muddled his way through reading the French texts, sometimes asking Remus what a certain word meant. Hours passed and soon Harry was trying to sleep in his bed only to wake up every few minutes because his dreams were the less then pleasant thoughts of when he killed Montague and Kyle.

Two simple moves that were not designed to kill had taken away lives. Harry slowly stopped feeling guilty because they were Death Eaters, but guilty because they were once living beings, and warriors at that. He had taken their lives, something Harry knew he would have to do to others soon, but he had done so dishonourably. Harry had vowed never to use the Unforgivables to Remus, but as he lay there staring at the ceiling, Harry decided to make another vow to himself. A vow that he had just read in _Les Vieux Rites de Chevaliers Médiévaux de France_.

He got up from his bed and took the decorative snorkack horn knife Luna had given to him for a birthday present. Pressing the tip of the knife onto the tips of his index and middle fingers of Harry's left and right hands, a bead of blood was on each of the four fingers. Harry kneeled on the ground and closed his eyes before speaking.

"Par l'honneur du guerrier,

"et le code de la façon,

"pour les valeurs que je représente,

"et l'une que je protège,

"je, Harry James Potter, jure pour payer

"l'hommage à mes ennemis tombés,

"n'importe ce que le lot ils avaient dans la vie,

"le saint, le méchant, ou l'insensé,

"pour s'ils tombent à la main,

"ils seront honorés comme chaque guerrier souhaite être.

"Ils nomment ne sera pas oublié aux sables de temps,

"ni fera leur pouvoir,

"pour lui résidera dans moi,

"comme leurs noms seront marqués sur ma peau,

"comme un remberance de ceux-là qui est tombé,

"pour moi vie.

"Ceci je jure, comme un guerrier, un humain, un gentilhomme.

"Ceci je, Harry James Potter, doth jure comme un vrai chevalier."

Upon the conclusion of _Le Voeu du Vrai Chevalier de Crécy_, Harry smeared the blood on his finger tips upon both of his biceps. Keeping his eyes closed as he felt a searing heat on his biceps, Harry smelt smoke from something burning. It didn't comfort him any to think that it was his skin that was burning, but when he opened his eyes, he looked down at his biceps.

The smoke was still rising from his skin where three names were branded in. Surprised that it didn't seem that painful as he would have imagined and the fact that there were three names instead of two, Harry examined the names closely. There where two on his right bicep, while only one on his left.

The left bicep bore the name: Quirinus Quirrell

While the right bicep bore the two names: Stephen Kyle and Francis Montague.

Seeing the three names proved that Harry had performed the ritual correctly and that yesterday had not been, as he thought, the first time he killed. Harry went back to sleep, which this time was more forthcoming and without any thoughts of death or dishonour. The only thought that Harry had on his mind while he dreamed was, _where will the names go when I run out of room on my biceps?_

**A/N**: I hope you all liked this really long chapter. I would like to give special thanks to my new beta, Nita. I believe that everyone that reads my fic should thank her also because not only is she betaing all my new chapters, but she is also updating all of the old ones too! She is awesome.

Okay, so I used a lot of French and other languages in this chapter. Here are some translations, other can not be given because they would give away too much of the plot, sorry.

Nikulturny is Russian for 'uncultured' and is a major insult.

(The Vow Harry made at the end, which happens to be my creation.)

Vow of the True Knight of Crécy

By the honor of the warrior,  
and the code of the way,  
for the values I stand for,  
and the ones I protect,  
I, Harry James Potter, do vow  
To pay homage to my fallen enemies,  
no matter what lot they had in life,  
the holy, the wicked, or the insane,  
for if they fall by hand,  
they will be honored as every warrior wishes to be.  
They names will not be forgotten to the sands of time,  
nor will their power,  
for it shall reside in me,  
as their names shall be branded upon my skin,  
as a remberance of those that have fallen,  
for me to live.  
This I do swear, as a warrior, a human, a gentleman.  
This I, Harry James Potter, doth swear as a true knight.

The Mental Magic Arts (_Les Arts Magiques Mentaux)_

The Encyclopedia of Old French Charms_ (Le Encyclopédie de Vieux Charmes Français)_

The Old Rites of Medieval Knights of France_ (Les Vieux Rites de Chevaliers Médiévaux de France)_

Count Donatien A.F. de Sade is better known as The Marquis de Sade

The description of shock that Harry suffers is accurate, but how Remus treated it was slightly abbreviated.

What's with Dumbledore's list of kids he wanted in D.A.?

I obtained Quirrell's name from HP-Lexicon

The first appearance of Mr. Politik Muckraker, and most definitely not the last.

The England's under 17's quidditch team is a real team that I found during some web surfing on the HP-Lexicon. Tony Raven is my own creation though.

I also got the idea for Draco's middle name from the HP-Lexicon, and for those that don't know, The Knights of Walpurgis was what the Death Eaters were once called.

What do you guys think of Skaramagas Karapanagiotis? Should I keep him around, say for others to get crafted wands, I rather like the way he annoys Ollivander.

I can't remember where I read it, I believe is was called _The Night a 747 Crashed in My Backyard_ or something, in any case that was the gist of the book, and that's where the EMT guy described the theory of the 'golden hour' to the new recruit. I adapted it for spell damage, hence to explain the loss of Moody's leg and eye, it will be important later on.

Christian Fiore is dead, Moody saw to that, but Moody still needs to watch his back.

Ratai and Sun Gao, what are those two up to? Did anyone think that Ratai was a muggle?

Harry's corporation is in its inception.

I used the Celtic Lore Wood Calendar for Remus' wand. Since he was born March 10 (found that out at HP-Lexicon), he would have had a wand made of ash. I saw the properties and thought _definitely not Moony_, then I saw the properties for alder, which is the next wood on the Calendar and is only 8 days away from Remus' birthday, and I thought, _this is so Remus_. If you want to know what I mean, Google search: Celtic Wood Calendar and look up alder.

For originality's sake, should I rename this fic: Harry Potter and the Way of the True Knight?

I would like to thank** Tmctflyboy, mosleyn001, egastin77, yo-yo55d and RENZO, **for reviewing the last two chapters, 7 and 8. I should Have thanked you all earlier, I apologize for not doing so. I hope you can forgive me.

Please Review.

Thank you all.

forfie


	10. Last Days of Fun

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing that has to do with Harry Potter or his cohorts. They all belong to one J.K. Rowling. I highly suggest you read her books, they are pretty awesome.

I hope you all enjoyed the last long installment.

Thank you once again Nita! However, this chapter may not be beta'd, more updated chapters will have been added.

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By forfie

Chapter 10.) Last Days of Fun

Harry was sitting in the kitchen with Remus. It was their last breakfast together. Eggs, chipolatas and toast were all either of them were paying attention to. Despite not really getting into an in depth discussion on Sirius' death as they had intended to, both felt the heavy burden that had constricted the sinews of their chests lighten over time. Despite the loss of a good friend and godfather, both of them over the past three and half weeks had connected to know that they were not and never would be alone.

August 23rd, however, rolled forward too soon for either of their liking. Soon Harry was to leave with Tonks by portkey to his beach house just outside the city limits of Freeport on the Grand Bahamian Isle, and Remus was to prepare for his transformation that night. After his transformation, and three days of a rest so that his strength would have fully returned, Remus along with Hestia Jones were to meet up with two other Order members, both being international recruits, before continuing onwards into St. Petersburg.

"Did you have a good stay?" asked Remus as he sipped his tea.

"Of course, Moony," replied Harry as he took a bit of his eggs.

"We really didn't do too much," continued Remus, "What with the training you had from Sun Gao and all."

"We had plenty of time together, Moony," replied Harry, "But I'll be seeing you soon yea?"

"I dunno," replied Remus as he nursed his tea, "The mission has not time limit on it. Could be a month, could be six months, for all I know, it's could be a year."

"What are you doing out there," asked Harry.

"Winning the hearts and minds," replied Remus, "Harry I can't tell you much, you know that."

"Please, Remus," begged Harry.

"I'll try to recruit some more to our side," replied Remus, "And also see how some of the other beings like the werewolves and vampires are swaying."

"Won't that be dangerous for you?" asked Harry, "Considering what you did to a lot of there kind."

"True, but I'm the only one that can talk to them," replied Remus, "There are only two werewolves in the Order, and the other is already on another mission."

"Two werewolves?"

"Yes, he was turned more recently," replied Remus.

"Have I met him?" asked Harry.

"Doubtable," replied Remus, "And I will not tell you who it is, that's one of our biggest secrets in the Order."

Harry nodded his head in understanding, "So you have to talk with werewolves and vampires?"

"Yes, shouldn't be that hard to find my fellow werewolves, we tend to live on our own," replied Remus.

"I thought wolves lived in packs?" replied Harry as he reflected on his primary education.

Remus laughed a bit, a smile on his lips, "its a little known fact that werewolves can't hunt in packs, we would tear each other apart. We are very…dominating in our transformed form. It's actually how the myth of the 'lone wolf' came about, though most people see being the lone wolf as recklessly heroic, if they realized that it's a myth based on werewolves, they would be devastated.

"Also, the wolf is one of the most feared and hated animal in Russia. Myths and legends have been told and created about wolves, in actuality the myths are about werewolves. A lot of werewolves can be found in Russia."

"Why Russia," asked the curious teen.

"Harry, have you ever seen a world map?" upon seeing his nod, Remus continued, "Russia is a big country with many uninhabited forests, frozen tundra and mountains. It's very easy to get lost there, or hide. That why some of the Darkest wizards flee to Russia and the Ministry there is worse off then our prejudicial one. They lack money, resources and honest law enforcement.

"As of recently, the government has changed there, and as such it has not taken a foothold. Its house of cards that can fall at any moment, and that is one of the reasons for my mission."

"To make it fall?" asked Harry.

"No," replied Remus, "To help prop it up while making a smaller house of cards under it."

Harry was slightly confused at the analogy, but nodded with understanding.

"Is your team secure?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I personally can vouch for Hestia, Dumbledore has assured me that Viktor and his men are equally reliable," replied Remus as he ate the last of his eggs.

"Viktor?" questioned Harry, "Viktor Krum?"

"Oh yes," replied Remus, "The Krum family has joined the Order; they are quite influential in eastern Europe. Viktor and his school friends also know the area really well. Unfortunately I can't seem to remember his school friends' names."

"Viktor's a good man," replied Harry.

"Funny, he said the same of you," replied Remus as he was, "Are you all packed for your holiday?"

"Yea," replied Harry, "Just don't know how I'm going to read my books out on the beach."

"I could disguise the titles," replied Remus, "But still holding a big tome on the beach is quite…noticeable. I got it, however it might not be the best of ideas…"

"Yea?" asked Harry.

"Well, I could change the titles to three books most people would not read unless for a class," replied Remus.

"It's nothing from the Marquis de Sade right?" asked Harry was he had a cold shiver go down his back.

"No, no!" replied Remus shaking his head, "How do you even know about him…never mind, I don't want to know. I would change them to _Beowulf, War & Peace _and_ L'Morte D'Arthur_. I guarantee that no one will ask you about them."

"Sounds good to me," replied Harry.

"Just give me the books before you leave so I can disguise them," replied Remus.

Two hours later and three disguised books later, there was a knock at the lift's door. Both Harry and Remus looked at each other perplexed. _Who could that be_ was the thought they had.

"Oi you two!" shouted a familiar voice from behind the twin sliding metal doors, "You two know I can't get in with out your permission!"

Remus went over and pressed the button to open the lift doors. Unfortunately, Tonks had been leaning against the doors as they opened, so with their disappearance, she feel forward right on her face. Remus and Harry both rushed to her aid, which she refused as she pulled her self up grumbling about 'stupid wards and lift doors'. She turned her dark twinkling eyes, heart shaped face and blonde hair with thin pink highlights to the two of them.

"Wotcher you two!"

"Hullo Tonks," they both greeted back.

"Good thing you're going on a vacation Harry," replied Tonks, "Not only do I get to enjoy the sun, but…heh, I get to enjoy the sun, pity Sirius never told me about this place before."

"I don't think he told anyone," replied Remus as he led everyone to the couches in the greeting hall.

"You all packed Harry?" asked Tonks, "Or you need me to help you with that?"

Having already known that Tonks wasn't tops with packing charms, Harry had already packed his trunk, and because of all his extra things, Remus had bought him a nondescript canvas satchel. Harry also planned to use it in place of his raggedy old back pack, come time for Hogwarts.

"Err…already done Tonks," replied Harry, she looked a bit put out, "Um, do you have the portkey?"

"Nope," replied Tonks as she lounged on the couch, "The Headmaster is bringing it; he should be here in maybe five minutes."

"Good," replied Remus, "Harry there is something I want to teach you before you go."

"Remus," replied Tonks, "I thought Dumbledore told you not to tell him?"

"Please Tonks," replied Remus as his amber eyes looked deeply into hers, "I don't want a repeat of June."

Tonks swallowed hard, but nodded her head. Harry looked on between the two.

"Harry, last Christmas Sirius gave you a mirror to communicate with him," Harry's chest immediately clenched, _not now, no not now_, "I know you didn't use it to talk to him, and that doesn't matter. However, you won't be able to owl me for advice or anything, but I still want to be there for you. This is a charm that your mother created to talk with people privately at long distance."

"My mother?" asked Harry,_ my mother created charms?_

"Yes, Harry, but I need to show you this, I might tell you later on," replied Remus as he looked at the fireplace, "You have to wave it as such," continued Remus, coping the same movement that Harry had seen Professor Snape do in the side alley.

"And say the words _J'aimerais parler privément avec _with the name of the person you would like to contact," continued Remus, "And them place the wand tip to your mouth and the base to your temple."

"Remus, I don't have a wand right now," replied Harry.

"I know Harry, Skaramagas said you should receive it in the male on the 31st," replied Remus, "Do you remember the incantation?"

"_J'aimerais parler privément avec _with the person's name," replied Harry, "Isn't this a common spell, it would seem slightly useful."

"No Harry," replied Remus, "Most of your mother's spell work was never published; the only people that know about it are Order members."

"Most?" asked Harry as green flames appeared in the fireplace, Lupin put a hand on his shoulder to shush him.

"Good afternoon everyone," replied Albus Dumbledore as he stepped from the fireplace with his eyes sparkling, "I dare say that two of you will have a better afternoon then most of us."

"Wotcher Headmaster," greeted Tonks as she stood up.

"Please, Nymphadora," Tonks glared at Dumbledore, who seemed to ignore it, "Do not strain yourself to get up, I dare say your excursion a few days ago into Diagon Alley might have strained your wounds."

"I'm perfectly fine sir," replied Tonks a little bit curtly.

"Be that as it may," replied Dumbledore, "I'm just looking out for your best interests."

Tonks rolled her eyes but quickly hid it from Dumbledore's view.

"Tonks, why were you there yesterday?" asked Harry.

"Emmeline came to Headquarters with news of the attack," replied Tonks as she turned to look at Harry, "Kingsley and I were the only members there, and we were sick of house sitting. We thought that we might get a chance at a little action."

"Ah yes, that reminds me," said Dumbledore as he turned his kind, yet piercing, blue eyes towards Harry, "How are you doing? I didn't get to talk with you afterwards and I wish I had. Taking a life, especially accidentally, can be a major trauma; I'm slightly surprised that you didn't suffer any shock."

"Err…" was Harry's response.

"Don't worry Headmaster," replied Remus, "I was here for him."

"Thank you Remus," replied the Headmaster, "Now I say, shouldn't you two be on your way for some time in the sun?"

"Umm…" was all Harry said before Tonks stepped in.

"Sir, you haven't given us the portkey yet," replied the blonde with pink highlights.

"Oh," replied Dumbledore as he patted down his robe's pockets until pulling out a beach sandal, "Right you are, and here you go. Both of you all packed?"

"Yes," replied Harry and Tonks in unison.

"Well, I hope you have a safe trip and the portkey is programmed to bring you back to the flat at ten o'clock the night before your return to Hogwarts, please don't forget, and I will be expecting to see you both," replied the old Headmaster.

"Have fun, both of you and don't forget to visit Arawak," replied Remus with a small smile as hugged Harry good bye and waved farewell to Tonks.

"5…4…3…2…1…," said the Headmaster as Harry felt a pull from behind his navel with his thought on what Arawak was.

Opening his eyes, and not realizing he had instinctually closed them, Harry looked up at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan. _I _hate_ portkeys_ was his main thought as he flipped onto his stomach to get up. Once standing, he helped the fallen form of Tonks up. Looking around, the first thing Harry noticed was that the fan in this living room, which only had a couch that looked out onto a porch, was the only form of cooling in the hot weather.

Harry walked over to the porch and slid open the sliding glass door to let in a cool sea breeze that fluttered the beige curtains around. Stepping out onto the porch, Harry realized it was actually a balcony because they were situated on a cliff over looking the beach shore as it was crashed into by the clear blue water. Harry also noticed that there was a wooden stairway that leads from the balcony to the shore.

Turning back inside, Harry could see the kitchen over the side counter where it was separated from the living room. The door was right next to it, to that when you walked in, the kitchen was to your left, the living room right in front and to the right was the side hall that lead to the two bedrooms that were separated by one bathroom. Simple, whole and complete, this beach house was everything that Harry needed. _Well, perhaps someone to take to it one night_, thought Harry with a devilish smirk.

"And pray tell what are you thinking about, old chap?" asked Tonks as she walked away from on of the bedroom.

"Oh nothing," replied Harry as he looked to his feet and took his satchel off, "Hey, Tonks, what is Arawak?"

"It's the Magical town here, not that big as Hogsmeade, but it's nice, but not the best place for anyone to visit on vacation," she replied as she stepped out onto the porch for some fresh air, "You need me to unshrink anything for you?"

"Yea, just my trunk," replied Harry as he took at the shrunken item from his satchel and placed in on the ground for Tonks to return to its normal proportions.

Tonks muttered and engorgement charm as she flicked her wand setting the trunk to actually size and helped Harry carry it into his bedroom, "I say for today, we hit the beach till round five then we go into town for some food and maybe a club or two or three or four?"

Harry looked into the eager woman's eyes, "Sure Tonks."

"So go put on your swimming trunks, I'll be on the beach in a few."

"Err…" said Harry as he put his trunk down and thrust his hands in his pockets.

"What it is it Harrykins?" asked Tonks.

"I kind of…don't own any…swim wear," replied Harry, slightly blushing at the idea of Tonks in a bikini.

"Cor Harry," replied Tonks, "You go on vacation to a Caribbean island and don't bring swimming trunks? Tell me you at least have shorts."

Harry stuck his hands in his pockets a little deeper, "Summer," was all that was said before the lower half his pants were 'sucked' upwards so that his pants were now shorts.

"Nifty!" exclaimed Tonks, "I see you go to Madam Malkin's."

"I also go to Gladrag's too," replied Harry as he unpacked some of his clothing.

"I've never seen you there," replied Tonks, "That's were I do most of my shopping."

"I know Tonks," replied Harry as he unfolded a shirt, "They have a plaque of you on the wall that says 'Customer of the Decade' on it."

"Prat," said Tonks as she tried to push Harry in the shoulder, only to miss and fall over.

Harry helped her up and dusted her off a little as the Auror continued, "So we head to town first and pick up some trunks for you, yea?"

"Sure," replied Harry.

"Maybe even a Speedo or two?" asked the young Auror with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"A…what?" asked Harry.

"A Speedo," upon seeing his head cocked to the side like a puppy dog would, Tonks sighed, "Never mind."

Walking down a cobbled stone road of a small Mercado on the outside of the city of Freeport, Tonks and Harry were looking at the small shops hoping for a place to buy some swimming trunks for the raven haired boy. The cute girls that were barely clothed didn't go unnoticed to Harry as he walking by.

"See anything that catches your fancy," asked Tonks with a half smile.

"The one with the brown hair in the baby blue bikini…hey, should I be talking about this with you," asked Harry.

"Don't worry, I won't take offence," said the Auror brightly, "It'll be like looking for a girl for a little brother or something."

"Well, I don't know…" replied Harry as he caught a glimpse of a pretty girl that had very tanned skin and well pronounced curves.

"Harry," replied Tonks in all seriousness, "My mission for this vacation is not just watching your cute arse. I plan to make sure you get laid at lest once."

"'Scuse me," asked Harry, who had abruptly stopped and became paled and wide eyed, "What do…do…do you mean by getting laid?"

"Sex!" exclaimed Tonks causing several of the other people around them to look at them oddly, "Oh, go back to your shopping!

"Harry, I'm talking about getting you into a sexual relationship with a person that you are never going to see again," whispered Tonks with a little bit more decorum, which was lost when she tripped on the cobblestones for the tenth time that day.

"But isn't s…se…sex…supposed to be between people that love each other?" asked Harry, slightly nervous that someone might be listening in on him and Tonks talking.

"That's later on in life," replied Tonks as she brushed away the thought with her hand, "For now it's just supposed to be all casual like."

"Casual," asked Harry.

"Yes, Har, casual," said Tonks, "It's not like your going to find a soul mate when your sixteen, heck you're probably not going to find one until your at least thirty-five. But that's not to say sex shouldn't be taken lightly.

"There are still disease and such that you have to protect yourself against. Condoms are some of your best friends, some of mine, some of everyone's best friends."

"Isn't there a wizarding solution to…" said Harry.

"Prophylactics?" asked Tonks, "Cor Harry, you don't want to know those. The only ones they have thus far are to make a man sterile. Trust me, Molly Weasley has informed me all about them."

Harry shuddered at the thought of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and then realized that they had seven kids. _I can see _why_ Mrs. Weasley had Mr. Weasley become sterile, _thought Harry.

"Also Harry," said Tonks as she stumbled over the cobblestone road again, "Never pressure a girl. Not only will it not get you anywhere and will more than likely push her away from you, but its also gentlemanly and decent not to."

Harry nodded, slightly dazed at have some form of the 'The Talk'.

"I know I might not be the best to tell you these things Harry," continued Tonks, "But I feel it's my place as Sirius' next of kin that you're close to, to tell you. I'm sure he would have had more fun telling you this stuff."

"I'm…I'm sorry, Tonks," said Harry.

"Sorry for what Har?" asked Tonks confusedly.

"For being one of the many events that lead to Sirius' death," answered Harry.

"Oh, Har," replied Tonks as she brought him close by putting an arm around his shoulder, "I know that you acknowledge that you are not the only one responsible for his death, and that must take a lot, but you can't beat yourself up over it. If I didn't get injured in the first five minutes of battle, I would have helped him out. Unfortunately, I missed stepped and walked in the way of bludgeoning hex that tossed me into the wall. Shite happens."

_Shite happens, _thought Harry, _that should be the motto of my family coat of arms_, "I miss him Tonks."

"As do I and every one else that knew the big softy," replied the young Auror as she blinked back tears from her eyes, "What say we have this week in honour of good ol' snuffles?"

"Sure, Tonks," replied Harry, tears not forthcoming from his eyes, just a tension in his chest that was slowly relaxing.

"First by getting you some swimming trunks," replied Tonks, who then pointed down to his feet, "Then some sandals so you don't look really odd in those snazzy graphorn boots…"

"And then get me to lose my virginity," offered Harry in a meek voice.

"Exactly," replied Tonks before turning her head sharply to look at Harry, which sent both toppling sideways on the cobbled stone Mercado.

Helping each other up, Tonks was gaping at Harry, "You're…you…are…a…a…a…_virgin_!"

Harry bit his bottom lip hard, pushing his hands deep into his pockets, "Um…yea…"

"But…Harry, your famous?" replied Tonks.

Harry snorted in amusement and slight disgust, "Tell me about, this whole summer people have been trying to copy me, but what does this have to do with my…lack of experience?"

"It's just…" began Tonks, her facing becoming increasingly red.

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"Well…I just thought that…that girls tend to go after the famous sought a lot," said Tonks, "Not to mention…you really are…I mean fairly good looking."

_At least she didn't say filthy rich, wonder when that story breaks_, thought Harry as he just looked at Tonks, "I wouldn't know, I've only had one date and that ended out horribly."

"Oh I know," replied Tonks, "I've heard the stories from Fred and George."

"Wait, you know?" asked Harry, "And Fred and George knew?"

"Har, you are famous and go to Hogwarts," replied Tonks as she pushed him into a small clothing store that had swimming trunks on display, "You're the prime gossip material."

Harry just grumbled as he was looking at the different swimming trunks and sandals deciding on what to get.

The next afternoon, after Harry had crawled out from under his sheets with a splitting headache that was intensified in the light and a horrible sludge like taste in his mouth, he hobbled into the shower as fast as his uncoordinated legs would take him. Brushing his teeth in the mirror with just the natural day light to illuminate the room, and looking at his bright emerald green irises as they stood in stark relief from his bloodshot eyes, Harry wondered what he did last night. _Jeez, do I really look as bad as I feel_ he wondered as he went back into his bedroom.

_Thank some deity that the bed is empty_, thought Harry as he made some semblance of trying to tidy up.

"Rise and shine, oh Har of mine!" exclaimed Tonks gleefully as she entered his bedroom and tackled Harry onto his bed as she only wore a string bikini.

"Great Merlin, Tonks!" shouted Harry from underneath her as he winced and whispered, "Please don't yell."

"Aww," she cooed, "Did someone have a little too much to drink last night?"

"I can't even remember last night," replied Harry with his aching head in his hands.

"Here, take this," replied Tonks as she handed him a vial of Pepper-Up potion.

Harry eagerly drank the proffered potion that immediately relieved him from his headache. He looked up at Tonks, who was still lying above him clad only in a white string bikini, and his expression changed to shock. Quickly scrambling out from underneath her, Harry looked back at her wide eyed.

"You know a picture would last longer," replied Tonks, "What's the matter Har?"

"You…are…you're practically nude," he replied, and then looked down at the vial in his hand, "And where did you get this vial from? You don't have any pockets. And you definitely weren't that curvy when we came down here!"

"Harry, calm down," replied Tonks, "I hope you don't act this way with a naked girl in bed. For Merlin's sake, Har, I am a metamorphagus; I can change my appearance, my _whole_ appearance. And I laid that vial of Pepper-Up on your nightstand this morning when you were still sleeping, thought you might need it after the night you had. Is anyone in your family Irish?"

"Huh?" asked Harry.

"Irish," replied Tonks, "Some of the best drinkers that I know are some Irish Aurors I hang out with. Those blokes are ridiculous, they taken on some of the S.A.S. at Hereford for fun. Crazy lot they are I tell you."

"S.A.S.?" Harry couldn't remember what he did last night, he was just hung over a few seconds ago, and Tonks was not helping one bit by just thinking out loud.

"Special Air Service?" asked Tonks in the 'you don't know what that is' tone, shaking her head, she continued, "It's England's covert-Ops task force, they've been the major cooperators we had to enlist as a cover up for You-Know-Who's attack in the muggle world. They just push it off as if it's some muggle terrorist, or a muggle serial killer, and if it's really bizarre, they say it's a new form of disease."

"Oh," replied Harry.

"Alright Har, 'nough 'bout gloomy ol' England," replied Tonks as she threw him a pair of his new swimming trunks, "Time for some sun and fun!"

Lying on towel on the white sandy beach in front of Sirius', _no wait, it's mine now huh?_, beach house, Harry realized just how much he need a vacation from his life back in the British wizarding world. The warm sun and cool ocean breeze relaxed him to a point of semi-awareness where his thoughts would travel to all things not war related. _I wonder if this is what Sun Gao meant about a middle path,_ thought Harry idly.

"Oi, Har," said Tonks who was lying on her stomach near him, "You might want to take your holsters and cuff off, tan lines and all."

Harry looked down at his right arm holster, the formerly hard graphorn hide had worn into a comfortable fit with his skin that he didn't even realize he still wore it even though he had no wand to put in it as of yet. He untied it and placed it in his canvas satchel along with his other holster, which was the temporary dragon hide one that was for his bo, that just like it's brother, didn't have a anything to fill it.

Harry tried to remove his leather cuff that was branded with the symbol akoben that he received from Kingsley, but was unsuccessful. Trying to remove it again, the leather neither stretched nor did the seal break. Shrugging it off, Harry laid back down, _if I get a tan line, I get a tan line, no big deal._

"You need any suntan lotion?" asked Harry.

"No you cheeky monkey," replied Tonks, "My ability allows me to change my pigment also, so I won't get burned, in fact, I don't need to tan at all. I just like the feeling."

"I know what you mean," replied Harry as he closed his eyes.

"Har, maybe you should put some suntan lotion on," suggested Tonks, "I mean you did get slightly tan this summer, but not nearly enough."

Harry sat up and started to rub suntan lotion on his body just as Tonks looked over.

"Wicked, I didn't notice you had some tattoos!" exclaimed Tonks, "When'd you get them?"

"Only have four of them," replied Harry as he showed her his shoulders, his left chest and the Gringott's tattoo on the back of his right calf.

"Wow, Bill has one of those!" said Tonks, as Harry raised and eyebrows as if asking, and how would you know_ Bill has one?_ "Don't ask."

Harry nodded and saved that bit of information for some good hearted teasing later. Just as he was about to turn away, Tonks then noticed his biceps.

"Several names I see tattooed there," replied Tonks, "Thought you said you were a virgin? Tattooing girls names to your bicep."

"Err…" replied Harry as Tonks pulled his arm closer to read the names; her face suddenly dropped its smile.

"Harry, why do you have Montague's and Kyle's name tattooed to you?"

Harry then showed her his other bicep, before responding, "I can't really tell you, but it's…and outward…projection that…of…my guilt," _that's true enough_.

"Har, you shouldn't feel guilty," replied Tonks.

"Tonks have you killed anyone yet?" asked Harry, Tonks shook her head, Harry sighed deeply and continued, "No matter what you think, whether or not they were Death Eaters, they were still living beings. It's hard to sleep…all I saw was Montague's cold eyes…and these…markings…help that."

"But Harry…" Harry silenced her with a sigh.

"Tonks, two days after you kill someone, anyone, come and talk to me," replied Harry, ending the conversation.

Several minutes later, a systematic pounding of feet on the ground over powered that of crashing waves. Looking up through his sunglasses, another item Tonks made him purchase at the swimming trunk store, Harry say two approaching joggers. Well, girls in bikini's that were running anyway, he didn't know if they were specifically jogging or just fast walking along the edge of the shore. Either way, Harry was a enjoying the site.

The tan brunette that was wearing a yellow bikini that had purple polka dots signaled for her sandy blonde haired friend to slow down. Harry tried not to move his head and just followed looking at them with his eyes, trying so as not to let them notice he was watching them. They both looked at Harry, and then at Tonks, before they approached him.

_They're approaching me,_ blanched Harry mentally, _I mean, I'm not really good looking…_

"Harry?" asked the blonde timidly in clearly what was not a British accent.

Harry pretended to turn his head to her, his eyes having been on her the whole time, "Err…yes?"

"I told you it was him Jenn," replied her friend, "I mean jeez, you should have known him better considering you two were connected at the mouth for a good half an hour."

The blonde, her name obviously Jenn, blushed as she pushed her friend to the side slightly, "Jesus, Carmen, you have less tact then a boy sometimes."

"Err…" said Harry as he shifted his vision between the two beauties.

"Har, do you remember nothing of last night?" asked Tonks as she looked over to him leaning on her elbows.

Harry looked back at Jenn, then to Tonks and then to Carmen. The only face that was familiar was Tonks'.

"Err…how much did I drink?" asked Harry with what he hoped looked like an apologetic face on.

"Enough to impress my guy friends," replied Jenn, "And that saying a lot. Do you mind if you we sit for awhile?"

Harry looked over to Tonks how just mouthed 'It is your house, go for it'; "Sure, wish I had something you could sit on."

"Trust me, she was dreaming about a place to sit all night," replied Carmen as Jenn pushed her to the side again before both sat down, Jenn at Harry's side and Carmen at Jenn's.

"So what did I …we…do last night?" asked Harry as he sat up a little to look Jenn over, _what ever it was, I wish I remembered_.

Tonks answered, "You two were in a drinking game, of which you won Har," said Tonks with a smile, "And then I don't know how it happened, but you two started to suck face."

"We did not suck face!" replied Jenn a bit hotly.

Carmen patted her shoulder a lit before replying, "Hun, there was a sucking noise and your faces were all over each other, in my book that's sucking face."

"Oooo," replied Tonks, "I like you, what's your name again?"

"Carmen," replied the brunette as she turned to Tonks, "I never did quite catch your name last night nor that bloke I woke…" her sentenced was unfinished as Jenn had cupped her hand around her mouth.

"Mark," she replied, "His name was Mark, and the only reason I know is because you yelled it out all night long!"

Harry snorted with laughter as Tonks sniggered into her hand, trying to cover it up.

"Her names Nymphadora," replied Harry, only to realize to things. One, Nymphadora was not a common muggle name, and two, Tonks was going to kill him. Expecting trouble, Harry quickly jumped yup from his sitting position and started to run. He got about two feet from his towel before Tonks had dive tackled him in the legs from behind.

Apologizing through a mouth full of sand is quite an obstacle, especially when the person you upset was dumping more sand on you. After extricating himself from the current predicament, Harry took a quick dive into the warm surf to rid himself of the sand. Approaching the towel, Harry looked at the three women talking.

"Never call Tonks by her first names," was all he said as he plopped down on the towel.

"We sorta figured that out," replied Carmen, "Specially when your cuz stuffed sand down your trunks."

Harry scratched his bum idly as he looked at Tonks and mouthed 'cuz'.

"It's American slang for cousin," replied Tonks.

"Ahhh," replied Harry, "So you two from the States?"

Both girls giggled a little and asked in unison for him to say it again, "Err…so you two from the State?"

Jenn and Carmen both sighed before nodding, "Yeah, we both come from Florida State."

Harry's eye's shot wide open, "Oh, your in a Uni?"

"Uni mean University," replied Tonks, "And yes Har, they are in Uni, like you go to University of London."

Harry bite his bottom lip, _what has Tonks been telling this girls!_ "Um…yea…"

"So you live in London?" asked Carmen.

"…Yea," replied Harry.

"What's it like?" asked Jenn.

Harry looked over at Tonks before returning his attention to the two girls, "Um…great?"

"You know you don't have to be so monosyllabic," said Tonks.

"Yea," replied Jenn, "There has to be something you can tell us, have you seen Big Ben?"

"Err…no, sorry," replied Harry, "I find that I'm too immersed in my classes."

"Oh, what are you majoring?" asked Carmen.

"Umm…self defense with…" Harry bit his bottom lip, _think Harry _think! _Eureka!_ "And tediously boring English course."

"Really?" said Jenn, "I'm studying English too? What do they have you reading?"

_Bugger!_ Exclaimed Harry mentally, "Err…_War & Peace_, _Beowulf_….um…err…_L'Morte D'Arthur_."

"Ahh," replied Jenn, "Quite a list they gave you there…"

"Yea…but the professor also believes in truly…understanding a book…and is making us read them in their original language.

"Wow…" breathed both Jenn and Carmen while Tonks just looked at him with a raised eye brow.

"Would you girls like anything to drink?" asked Tonks.

"You guys got some soda?" asked Carmen.

"Err…soda?" asked Harry with a blank look.

"Fizzy drinks," whispered Tonks before she turned back to the girls, "I'm sorry, we normally don't drink…soda…but we do have water, or tea."

"Tea at three?" asked Jenn.

"Well, it is tea time," replied Harry who wound his watch, having forgotten to when he arrived.

"Ohh," cooed both girls, "Say it again, say its tea time again."

"Err…it's tea time?" said Harry blankly, not really getting it.

"Har, be a dear and go fetch us a pot of tea and a pitcher of water," replied Tonks as she rolled over on to her back.

Harry nodded, thanking the chance to get away from the girls and hopefully to remember some the lies he told them. _You didn't lie so much_, he thought, _the only real lie you said was agreeing that you went the University of London. _Bloody Hell! _They think you're older, _older!_ Is that a good thing? And what's with them asking me to repeat things? I'm so confused._

As he was walking to the stairs he heard Carmen gasp before practically yelling out.

"Wow, I didn't think you were a C cup," said the brunette, "I mean they looked only like B's last night."

Harry had no clue what C or B cup meant, but he thought he might find out in a second.

"I actually hide my breast size well," replied Tonks, "Though why you were measuring them up is something I would like to know."

Light, fairy like chuckle could be heard, _that has to be Jenn_, as Harry shook his head and entered the house to make some tea and grab a pitcher of water.

Making his way back out to the girls with no shirt on, blue swimming trunks and holding a pitcher of water in one hand, a pot of tea in the other, the glass and cups balanced in the crux of his arms. Harry felt he looked stupid. He had wasted a good thirty minutes looking for serving tray, only to realize that the last time the house had been lived in was probably in the summer of 1981, and as such would be lacking some items.

The girls had turned around to see him returning, Carmen and Jenn kept looking at him while Tonks just turned back around to face the sea.

"Miss me much?" asked Harry as he laid down the tea between Tonks and himself, the cups pushed into the sand to hold them, as he offered to pour the water for Jenn and Carmen, "Making friends and such?"

Tonks snorted, "Well, I think we devised the Carmen wanted to make more then friends with me."

"Could you blame me?" asked Carmen as she took some water.

"Watch it you, that is my cousin your talking about," Harry replied jokingly.

"You prat," replied Tonks as she was poured herself some tea, "I should have been saying that to you all afternoon."

"Harry, can I check your watch?" asked Jenn, Harry nodded and gave her his wrist.

She held it in her soft, gentle and small hands. Fingers lightly brushing against his under forearm, her thumb rubbing a gentle circle on top, while her other hand loosely held his hand, gently rubbing a small circle around his middle knuckle as she took a long time to read his watch. Harry guessed, she wanted to touch him more then get the time and he was content to at this request. _Oh Bugger,_ thought Harry, _don't lie down or stand up, just sit still and you can hide it_.

"Carmen, we got to go," replied Jenn sadly, "Say Harry, Tonks you want to go to a beach party tomorrow night?"

Harry looked over to Tonks, already knowing his answer, who also happened to be in agreement with him, "Sure."

"It's about a quarter mile walk down that way," replied Jenn as she pointed back the way she and her friend had came, "See you tomorrow at eight."

"See you," replied Harry with a wave and watching the two beauties walk back to were they came from, again enjoying the very.

"I think someone likes you," replied Tonks.

"You think?" asked Harry.

"Well they were both practically screaming for you to bed them," replied Tonks as she turned look over as Harry laid back down, "And by the looks of it, Little Har, wanted the same thing."

"Great Merlin," replied Harry as he tried to cover himself up.

"Don't worry bout it Harry," replied Tonks as she rolled onto her stomach, "They didn't notice."

"You sure?" he asked.

"Trust me," replied Tonks as she looked him in the eye, "If they had, I don't think you would be a virgin any longer at this current moment. As it is, you'll probably lose it at this beach party."

"Really," asked Harry slightly fearfully.

"Yea, Har," replied Tonks, "I mean, they think you have a great body, a great accent, a great mind, and now having basically seen…_you_…I can safely say that if they passed up a chance of having sex with you, they would be barmy."

"Am…I really that…well off," asked Harry.

"Your better then well off," replied Tonks, "You're an American girls wet dream. Heck, your most girls' wet dreams."

Harry looked at Tonks blankly.

"And no Har," replied Tonks, "You are like a little cousin to me, nothing more. Oh, sorry about lying and saying you went to University of London, but when they told me in private that they came from Uni I wanted you to have a surviving chance. You know you don't look or even act like a sixteen year old, just wanted to make sure you had a chance."

"It's okay Tonks," replied Harry, "I just don't know anything about the University of London…"

"Oh I can tell you loads," replied Tonks, "Like what the inside of dorm rooms look like."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, Har," replied Tonks, "Never you mind."

A burning pyramid of wood stood out in its orange splendor against the purple haze of the distant clouds on the horizon. The cracking of the wood was muted by the loud talking, laughing and music from someone's portable boom box. Harry didn't know what type of music it was, all he could really make out were some of the lyrics, 'Where it's at' and 'Got two turntables and a microphone'. It was okay, thought Harry as he sipped from his bottle, which was surprisingly a beer that he enjoyed. He checked the label to make sure he memorized the name for later, _Corona, hmmm…wonder if they have this in England. _

Jenn walked over and sat down on the ground next to him, her eyes on the multitude of people dancing around the fire. She was wearing extremely short shorts that didn't even reach mid thigh with a pale green tank top that Harry thought looked a bit to tight on her by the way her breast were pressed. _Or maybe that's they way it's supposed to be,_ thought Harry as he sipped the pale beer with a little piece of lime floating in it. Harry looked down at his clothing, questioning if his navy khaki cargo shorts and white button down short sleeve shirt were appropriate, Tonks said he was fine, but then again, Harry doesn't know when to take Tonks seriously.

"You like fine," replied Jenn as she leaned over and unbuttoned his top three buttons from his neck, "Just a little too buttoned up, not many beach parties in England huh?"

"Not really," replied Harry as he took another sip so he didn't have to finish the comment.

"Are you okay?" asked Jenn looking into his eyes.

"Yea, I'm better then okay in fact," replied Harry, _bollocks, you're not fine, you have a girl that's into you, your probably going to lose it tonight and your nervous beyond belief. You, Potter, are beyond fine indeed._

Jenn smiled at that answer, "You cuz seems to be enjoying the party a lot."

Harry looked over to see Tonks dancing, _more like rubbing_, her back against some guy that looked like a carbon copy of every other guy at the party. _She looks like she's having fun…_

"Jenn, why didn't you tell us the hottie was here?" asked someone from a group of four girls.

Carmen came up to Jenn, along with two other girls that Harry didn't know. One of them was petite and of Asian decent while the other was quite curvy and was a shade darker then Kingsley and ten times better looking then him. The four of them stood up and faced the other four girls. Harry thought it was quite comical how the other four girls seemed to be Xeroxes of the stereotypical blonde cheerleader.

"Hello Cindy, Mindy, Cathy and Bridgett," greeted Jenn coolly, "What brings you to the party?"

"Well…" drawled out one of them, Harry couldn't tell the difference between them even by name, "We heard that you were having a party and that you invited this apparent hottie to it. Is it true that he's British?"

"Um…" said Harry as he looked at Jenn, Carmen and they're friends, the last thing he wanted was to be in the middle of a cat fight.

"Don't answer her Harry," replied Jenn as she turned to the leader of the Xeroxes, "And for your knowledge, he has a name, try using it."

"Maybe he could speak for himself," said Xerox leader as Harry was now referring to her mentally.

"Umm…" said Harry as Carmen gave him a look that said 'don't speak' and he promptly closed his mouth.

"I suggest you go and have some fun," replied Jenn.

"Maybe the fun we're looking for is right in front of us said Xerox leader as the other girls in her group nodded.

"Flattered as we may be," replied Carmen, "I'm sorry to tell you this, girls, but we just don't swing that way."

"Not from what I heard," replied Xerox leader, "I heard that you, Carmen, swing both ways."

"Only in your dreams," replied Carmen, "And I rather not know about those dreams. It's like dating someone that stalks you…oh, wait…didn't you do that Cindy?"

The Xerox leader's face became very red as she and her 'posse' left the girls alone. Jenn breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Carmen for her quick wit and the others for backing her up.

"Harry, these are my other friends," replied Jenn and indicated the Asian girl, "That's Emily."

"Heya," replied Emily as Harry shook her hand in greeting, "You probably don't remember me from the other night, but I'm the one that introduced you into the drinking game."

"Oh," replied Harry, "Unfortunately, I have no memory of that night at all, but from what I heard is that I won and I also meet Jenn there."

"You only know that because we told you yesterday," replied Carmen.

"Yea," replied Harry, "Guess I have to thank you for letting me win that money and introducing me to Jenn."

"No problem, she wanted to meet you the moment you stepped in the bar," replied Emily, "I was just the one with the guts to invite you over."

"And this," replied Jenn as she pointed to the dark skinned and curvy girl, "Is Erzulie, she's Haitian."

"'Ello," replied Erzulie in an accent similar to what Fleur's sounded like during his fourth year.

"Vous parlez français?" _do you speak French,_ asked Harry.

"Wonderful, now I don't have to talk with that bad accent," replied Erzulie, "So you know French?"

"I know a little," replied Harry.

"You speak it fairly well," replied Erzulie with a smile, "I hope we talk later on, it would be good to understand every word."

"I'll be certain of that," replied Harry.

"Now stop that you two," replied Jenn with a half smile, "Any other language besides English goes right over my head."

"Right-o," replied Harry.

"'Arry, I 'ill speek wit' 'uo later," replied Erzulie as she walked away back into the party.

"Yeah, I'll catch you all later," replied Emily with a wink before leaving.

"You two alright?" asked Carmen.

"Fine," replied Jenn as she sled closer to Harry, "Isn't William waiting for you."

"Ahh, that's his name," replied Carmen and with a wave over her back, "Thanks Jenn."

"Err…" said Harry as he looked at Jenn, "What were those Xerox…I mean girls about?"

Jenn laughed a bit, Harry slowly and timidly inched his arm across her back, of which she didn't protest and just leant into him more, "No you got it right Harry. Cindy, Mindy, Cathy and Bridgett are Florida States answer to mindless cheerleaders. Though not everyone on the cheer squad is like them, they fashion themselves as the popular crowd. Well, not popular to me or my friends.

"So when were you going to tell me you speak French too?"

"I only know a little French," replied Harry, "I thought Erzulie would feel more comfortable speaking it, though her accent is not familiar to me."

"Can you speak to me in French?" asked Jenn.

"I thought you said you didn't like nor understand it," asked Harry bemused.

"I can't," replied Jenn, "I just like the sound of your voice."

Harry tensed when he heard that, but softened quickly so as not warn Jenn, "What do you want me to say."

Jenn hugged him a little closer, "What do you want?"

"Besides you and a normal life?" replied Harry in French with a slight chuckle, "I would like another Corona."

"I understood one word in that whole thing," replied Jenn as she got up and returned two seconds later with a whole pale of Coronas chilled in ice.

Harry raised an eye brow as Jenn smiled at him, "I know it takes a lot for you to lose it and I rather keep you in this one spot."

Harry nodded his head as he popped open another Corona and slipped a wedge of lime into it, "Thank you Jenn."

"Your Welcome," replied the beauty as he wrapped herself against him tighter, "Speak to me some more, please."

A beam of light was shining down on Harry's closed eyes. Through his eyelids, what would have been a slight reddish colour was a burning bright reddish colour along with a major splitting headache. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, a little too quickly so as to add more pain to his aching head, Harry placed his head in the palms of his hands.

"What did you do to your self, Potter?" asked Harry.

Then the memories of last night came flooding back to him. Four Xeroxes girls…a curvy girl that spoke French…a bucket of Coronas…kissing Jenn…more Corona…more kissing, but this time with some heavy petting…walking on the beach arm and arm with a very pretty sandy blonde haired girl and a bottle of Corona in his other hand…walking up wooden stairs…getting thrown onto a bed…a naked body lying on top of him tracing his tattoo of a Celtic Knot…kissing…mounting…a tight sensation that he had never felt before…holding her hips, who ever her was…moaning…building up for that one, final release…falling asleep with a warm body pressed against him from his chest down to his legs with a mess of sandy blonde hair in his face.

"Dear Merlin," replied Harry as his jaw dropped as he turned around to look at the bed, the covers a mess and the same long sandy blonde hair cascading out from under the covers.

Harry put a fist in his mouth, both to stop from shouting in joy and fear. He stood up and noticed for the first time that he was naked. Spotting his long forgotten shorts at the foot of the bed, Harry slipped them on. Not wanting to wake the person, Harry went to the only person he new for help, Tonks.

Not bothering to knock on the door, Harry walked into Tonks' room asking where the Pepper-Up was. However, Tonks' was not the only one in her room at the time. Three guys and two girls were crowded in a bundle of odd body parts that were assembled on the bed; Harry only knew this by a quick head count. Approaching the head that was a tussle of blond and pink hair, Harry gently poked it.

"Tonks," he half whispered and half hissed, "Tonks…"

The young Auror snapped her head up and winced at her fast action and the responded through gritted teeth, "What is it Har?"

"Err…Tonks; did I do what I think I did last night?"

"Har, if you bloody well woke me up for that," replied Tonks.

"No, no," replied Harry, "Just checking, I was wondering were the Pepper-Up is."

"The refrigerator," said Tonks, "Mix it in some tea for her; she will probably need it too, along with some pain reliever."

"Why pain reliever?" asked Harry, "Shouldn't the Pepper-Up take care of the headache?"

"Not an ache in that _spot, _Har," replied Tonks with a grimace, "Please, no more noise."

Harry left as silently as he could and fetched the Pepper-Up potion from the refrigerator. Starting pot of tea, Harry figured why not cook some breakfast too. Pouring a vial of the Pepper-Up potion in each tea cup, Harry sipped his cup to gain some clarity of mind. It finally hit him, _I'm no longer a virgin_, and he properly dropped three of the six eggs he was holding.

A chuckling from the corner brought him to attention before he could bend down to clean up the mess. Looking to the hallway, Harry saw one of the most beautiful things in his life, Jenn wrapped up in his covers, her hair slightly mussed up from what they did last night. She was smiling faintly as she looked at him.

"Morning Harry," she said softly.

"Morning Jenn," replied Harry equally as soft, "Would you like some tea, I made it special way so as to knock out the hang over."

"Please," she groaned as she plopped down on a stool and winced, "And some pain reliever too."

_How did Tonks' know, _thought Harry, "Umm…you o-ok--, you want some breakfast?"

Jenn nodded as she wrapped the covers around her tighter and sipped the tea while taking two pain relievers, "Last night…was amazing."

Harry dropped that pan he was going to use to scramble the eggs, _don't think about scrambling eggs! Maybe you showed poach them? NO, don't think that either!_ "I remember a few things, the good stuff at least."

"Don't worry, I made sure you were protected," replied Jenn, "He this special recipe really works!"

Harry smiled to him self as he turned the stove on, "Err…why do you need to the pain meds?"

Jenn looked at him as if he had just grown two heads, "No one is ever that gentle when they're drunk and Harry, I'm sure many girls have told you're size…unless…did I take your virginity?"

Jenn had paled drastically at the realization; Harry turned around and bit his bottom lip, "Uhh…yea."

"Dear Lord," muttered Jenn, "You weren't saving for marriage right?"

"I haven't really thought about marriage," replied Harry honestly, _I'm more worried about living day to day._

"Thank the Lord," replied Jenn, "Oh it's nothing against you Harry, it's just…you realize that this is a spring fling thing right?"

"Spring fling thing?" asked Harry as he pushed a plate of eggs in front of here, "Don't know what that is, but sure."

"It means that we are only together for a like a week," replied Jenn.

"I leave on the 31st," replied Harry.

"Okay, less than a week," said Jenn, "But you realize it's not long term, right?"

"Yea," replied Harry, "Thought it would be kinda hard with me in London and you in Florida."

"True enough," replied Jenn, "These eggs are really good!"

"Thanks," replied Harry, "I've been cooking since I was seven."

"Hobby?" asked Jenn between mouthfuls.

"You…can say that," replied Harry thinking about how it was forced chore from the Dursleys'.

"So last night was really…your first time," asked Jenn.

"Yea," replied Harry uncomfortably.

"Sorry," replied Jenn, "It's just unbelievable that a stud like you didn't lose it when you were sixteen or something."

Harry snorted out loud at that, "Sorry, it's just...I never really had the time before, I've only been on one date in my life real, and that ended in tears."

"I could imagine," replied Jenn, "Too much force and that thing would rip someone in half!"

"Huh?"

"Never mind Harry," replied Jenn as she rolled her eyes, "So why was your only date crying?"

"Err…" said Harry feeling slightly uncomfortable discussing this with a person he just met, _and shagged_, "Well, her last boyfriend died…was murdered…before my eyes, and…I really don't know, I'm not to good with this girl stuff."

"Trust me Harry, you are good," replied Jenn, "But it sounded like she was dating you for the wrong reasons."

"I dunno," replied Harry, "All she seemed to talk about was Cedric, that's the…friend who was killed."

"It seems like she wanted to know how it happened," replied Jenn, "That's a tough thing to handle for a girl, but…how do you feel Harry, I mean you were there to see it right?"

"Yea," replied Harry as he looked down at his shoes, "I'll never forget it…the look on his face, it…it was partially my fault."

"Harry?"

"Jenn, I suggested that we go a certain way," replied Harry vaguely so as not to let her know he was a wizard, "And that lead to his death."

"Harry your not to blame," replied Jenn as she held his hand, "It was just the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Yea…" sighed Harry, the weight was ever present on his chest.

"Are you okay Harry?" asked Jenn as she traced a circle around his middle knuckle causing him to shudder a bit.

"I…I'll…I'll be fine," replied Harry as the faces of Cedric and Sirius were engraved in his minds' eye, _they're not branded on your arms, you didn't kill them; they are not branded on your arms…_

Two days later Harry was reclining between Jenn's legs at another one of the barn fire celebrations. He was talking to Erzulie in French about some of the funnier stories from the quartet's, Jenn, Carmen, Emily and Erzulie, last two years in college. Emily was off dancing with her boyfriend, Carmen was…Harry really didn't know where Carmen was, but he was almost positive that she wasn't alone and Tonks was in a drinking game with two guys, they had to drink every time they heard the word 'jump' and currently Jump Around by House of Pain was on the boom box. On repeat.

Leaning back against Jenn as she played with his messy hair, Erzulie was telling him of the time Carmen was locked outside of the dorm taps, "So she goes running to the other floors looking for a spare shower. Running around in her tiny towel, not a single showerhead was free, so she runs into the dorm next door, which happened to be an all boys dorm. Carmen ran to her first shower in her little towel in the boys' dorm. She got a lot of dates that month."

The Harry and Erzulie were laughing hard and soon they were laughing harder because of the look Jenn was giving them both.

"What is so funny you two?" asked Jenn as she pushed Harry forward and stood up.

"Nothing," replied Harry as he laughed and leaned back on log, Jenn now sitting between his legs.

"Wee 'ere talking oof zee tem Carmen wass looking fer zee s'ower," replied Erzulie.

"Oh, so long as it's not about me," replied Jenn as she wiggled her back against Harry's crouch.

"Luv, you got to stop that," replied Harry as he placed his palms on her shoulders.

"Why," asked Jenn in a sweetly innocent voice.

"Jenn, what happened the last time you wiggled against me?" asked Harry as Jenn got a devious smile on her face and a memory flashed before Harry's eyes of his own face with beads of sweat on it and intense pleasure.

Shaking his head, Harry vowed to read up on his book of mental arts, and Jenn whispered in his ear, "Maybe that's what I want?"

"Didn't you get enough last night," asked Harry as he whispered back into her ear, "And those two times this morning?"

Jenn giggled cutely and snuggled against Harry.

"Maybe I should leeve zee two of yoo alone," asked Erzulie.

"Erzulie, you don't have to go, Jenn will be good," replied Harry.

"When am I ever good," asked Jenn

"Your good at being bad," replied Harry.

"I'm going to go Harry," replied Erzulie in French and then switching to English for Jenn's sake, "I'm gooing to cheek out zat hottie over zere."

As Erzulie was walking over to a group of guys, Jenn heaved a major sigh that was not a good omen, but still felt great against Harry. Sipping at his Corona, he didn't know how he was going to switch back to water and pumpkin juice, Harry caressed her shoulder twice before she sighed again.

"What is it, Jenn?" asked Harry.

"Harry, there something I've been avoiding telling you today," said Jenn as Harry thought, _dear Merlin, don't say she's pregnant, I've been using condoms every single time and she told me she's on the pill_, "I leave tomorrow night."

Harry let out a laugh that made Jenn turn around to look at him, "Sorry, luv," replied Harry trying to think fast, this casual relationship stuff was something new to him, "Err…I guess that's it yea?"

"I guess so," replied Jenn a little stiffly.

"I mean…you even said that it was not a forever thing…or even a relationship, just a fling, right?" rambled Harry thinking out loud.

"I know, it's just…" Jenn gave him a side long look, "I wanna remain friends."

"Oh," replied Harry, "I mean…that could work right?"

"I guess, what with the phone and mail," replied Jenn.

_Eh, an owl might not be the best thing showing up at a muggle dorm and I don't have a fixed phone number,_ "Err…" replied Harry as he was thinking, "I sort of don't have a phone line."

"Why not?" asked Jenn.

"Err…" _think of something you dingbat. No phone because of magic, no not that. No phone because of…because of…something to do with Uni…Uni… Eureka! No phones because my housing got messed up!_ "I don't have proper housing right now, it's an issue I have to settle with the Uni."

"Oh something like that happened with my cousin," replied Jenn as she rummaged around for a pen and scrap of paper and writing on said piece of paper, "Here's my number, plus the area code and state code and my address, I expect to hear from you."

Harry took the piece of paper in his pocket and nodded.

The next two days seemed to pass in a blur of sun, Coronas, departures and packing. I was currently five o'clock on the Bahamian Island and was ten o'clock back in good old Britain. Actually it was 4:59:30, thirty seconds to go before the portkey sandal went off and Harry felt slightly foolish standing in the living room with Tonks holding a sandal. Tonks had helped him pack with the same spell she used last year, she still hadn't figured out how to pack the socks just right. After that, Harry had asked Tonks to cast a simple locking charm on the doors and windows of the house so as no unwanted visitors would show up.

Now both of them stood there in the middle of the living with Tonks in silence. That is until Tonks him if he had a good time.

"Yea," replied Harry, "I'm definitely looking forward to coming back next…"

Just then the portkey went off, the pull behind his navel and the nauseating feel of the wizarding long travel that Harry loathed. As the sensation stopped, Harry shivered. In comparison the now richly tanned Harry preferred the warm Bahamian weather then the chilly British summer. Already wishing he was back at the beach house, Harry made it to his feet.

"I _extremely_ loathe portkeys," he muttered as he helped Tonks to her feet.

"They're not a big fan of me either," replied the young Auror, "Then again, gravity isn't my friend either."

Harry snorted as he looked around the dark and empty flat that used to be Sirius'. _Welcome home, Potter_, he thought to himself as he took out his shrunk trunk from his back pocket for Tonks to resize it, _time to get serious…._

**

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****A/N: **Thank you all for reading, I'm trying to make them as long as possible with out dragging them out, I hope I've succeeded. Today is the last day of my internship, however that does not mean I'll be able to update faster. I still have a presentation I need to make on it, and as such, my whole week until the 27th shall be devoted to it, I'm sorry but I rather graduate some time before the summer hols. I would again also like to thank Nita, she has been wading through my horrible grammar and spelling for the past chapters, hopefully it will be completed soon. 

This is the end of summer for Harry, next chapter should have Harry ready to board the Express. However I have a surprise to throw his way, along with a few others.

The two songs mentioned in this chapter are _Where It's At_ by Beck and _Jump Around_ by House of Pain, both were around for 1996, in fact _Where It's At _won a Grammy Award.

Remus is in Russia with Hestia Jones. They both meet up with Viktor Krum and some of his school friends, all of which are members of the Order.

Yes, there are two werewolves in the Order, guess who the other is, you've seen his name already.

Remus is going to have a tough time in Russia.

Sun Gao is _not_ I repeat **_not_** in the Order of the Phoenix.

Remus' quote: To help prop it up while making a smaller house of cards under it, will be very significant later on.

The private communication charm: _J'aimerais parler privément avec _literally means 'I would like to speak privately with…'

So Bill has the same Gringott's Tattoo as Harry, hmmm? And Tonks knows about it too, not like they were shorts that often…

Harry's mum created charms, but that's not the only thing she created or tried to create…more will be told later the will show the secret life of Lily Potter with ties to some key people. Besides the obvious (James), try and guess the other two… I guarantee one of them will stun you.

The reason Remus was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell Harry the aforementioned spell was because the Headmaster did not want it falling into the wrong hands, nor did he want Harry to teach it to others, and he also did not want the secret to be lost if someone were to see Harry perform it.

I'm sorry Renzo, no new brooms, the firebolt was kind of like having a McLaren amongst Yugos and Pintos. Kind of a big leap, don't worry the other companies are trying to catch up and make better models.

I think some of you might have noticed, the name for the Russian Aurors, Zansteps, is just the name of the Russian Special Ops backwards, SPETSNAZ (which is an abbreviation similar to saying SAS for Special Air Service).

Harry knew that Magas crafted the other wand for Neville because they both got theirs within the same month. There are not that many crafters out there, it is really expensive, and having 2 within a month period is like selling 19 cars in a week. As my cousin is a car salesman, he would tell you that it is hard to sell 19 cars in a two month period then it is in two weeks. He wouldn't mind though, it means more money for him and a possible promotion.

HarryReader, I love you, seriously, I really do, I was wondering how I was going to incorporate a character later on and then you come in with Systema and Capoiera. It would be perfect for the character to teach considering the SPETSNAZ connection. Oops, given away too much.

The cores have a meaning, I will tell you later for I have given out too many secrets tonight as it is.

Thank you **Renzo, HarryReader, Filin, shawnculli **and** mosleyn001 **for reviewing and thank you to all of you that read, please review, it's like Wheaties to me.

Have a g'nite,  
forfie


	11. The Half Blood Prince

**Disclaimer:** just the usual I don't own the world this story is created from, they are in fact owned by JKR. In the event of emergency water landing, such as crashing into the open ocean, your seat can be used as a floatation device until the sharks come. In that instance, you just have become a floating hors' douves that is as delectable as the following chapter you shall read, have a good day!

This is the unbeta'd version.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By forfie 

Chapter 11.) The Half-Blood Prince

_Tap…tap…tap…_

Harry awoke with a start, jumping out of bed and flicking his wrist to call forth his wand. As nothing came to his right hand, Harry flicks his left hand to call forth his bo, still nothing. _Oh, _thought the teen as he stared at the blurry outlines of his arms at the empty holsters he had retied the night before to his forearms, _forgot those were destroyed_. Gently turning his cuff around on his wrist to get hide the exposed tan line, Harry reached over to his bed side table and placed his glasses on his nose. As he squint his eyes in the pre-dawn light, Harry noticed the silhouette of an owl perched on his ledge.

Opening the latch and lifting up the window, a brown owl that was laden with a long, thin rectangular parcel. It hooted merrily as it padded about Harry's dresser, the parcel dragging behind it from a leather strap. It stopped and tilted it's head at Hedwig's empty cage, it's light amber eyes then turned to Harry, who was walking to the little sleep wrecker.

"You know that was," said Harry before he yawned, his mouth opened wide as stretched his limbs upwards and curled his toes and fingers hearing satisfying pops, "A bit to earlier for a wake up call, you could have at least waken me up when there was _some _light out."

The owl hooted and gave what Harry thought was a shrug before he, Harry presumed it to be a he, tapped Hedwig's cage with his talons, "I sent off to Hogwarts a week, don't worry there little guy, she's not baked in a pie or something. Can I have parcel now, please? You can get some of her water if you wanted to."

The owl allowed Harry to remove the thin, rectangular box before it hoped into Hedwig's cage to drink some water and left over food pelts. The owl was soon on its merry way as Harry sat as his chair opened the parcel to reveal a wrapped piece of parchment. As he took the parchment out, a dark grainy wood object feel from the middle of it. Harry picked it up and felt as if his hand was asleep. Flexing his fingers around the long piece of wood, Harry felt that he was awakening a lost limb from atrophy. _Well when you don't have a wand for a week, the magic release could seem to atrophy,_ thought Harry as he idly twirled the wand between his fingers before stopping cold. _A…wand, I'VE GOT MY WAND!_ Shouted Harry in his mind as he looked down at the dark wood that was intersected by darker lines of grain. It was beautiful, smooth, and sleek. It felt like a long lost appendage. Harry felt whole.

Still holding the new wand, Harry opened the accompanying letter.

Dear Harry,

I present to you your crafted wand. I hope you only have to use it for domestic uses, however if it is used in a greater calling I will fully understand. As I mentioned to you briefly at Ollie's, a three core wand is something of an art for a wand crafter to make because few ever come around. I know it may seem rather obvious of me to say this, but I believe you will truly be a legend, Harry. The simple tool I have crafted for, of which I thank you greatly for giving me an opportunity, is just that Harry, a tool. It is neither light, nor dark nor any shade of grey. How wizard uses a wand determines him as the man, not the wand nor the person that crafted the wand. I hope you take these words to heart, for they are the same things my father told me when I entered the guild.

I have also looked closely into your wand, and what I found was most amazing. The poison sac of a lobalug, an animal that is used as a weapon by the Merepeople. The leathery feather of a threstral, an animal that can only be seen be those that have seen death. And the heartstring of a nundu, an animal considered being the most dangerous in existence as well as powerful. And kingwood, a name given to a wood because of its use to the Tudor family. This is truly the wand of a leader and warrior, a destiny that you may have been on all along.

You have my backing in the troubling times that are fast approaching. My services shall always be opened to you, Harry, as well as your friends. Thank you for allowing me to craft such a beautiful wand, I hope it will be used wisely in your hands.

Sincerely,

Skaramagas Karapanagiotis

_Well_ thought Harry as he folded up the letter and placed it in his already packed trunk, _that's a little bit too deep for me to take in this early in the morning_. Testing his wand out in his holster, Harry flicked it in and out of his hand to build up a feel to it. He wondered what should be the first spell he cast with it and decided on one of the tests Ollivander preformed in the weighing of the wands.

"_Avis_," muttered the bespectacled teen as five small blue birds burst forth and flapped around his room before flying out the opened window. Harry whittled away his time before he and Tonks had to drive to make the Hogwarts Express by casting spells to get a feeling for his new wand. It took him a while to get some of the spells to work, while others came more easily. Spell after spell were shot from Harry's new wand, some creating items while others left light scorch marks which Harry covered over with a nifty painting charm he read about in Sirius' library a few days back.

Remus had left his orange Baja Bug for Tonks to take Harry 'inconspicuously' to Platform 9 ¾. The orange blur that was the bug was hurtling down the streets of London, which were suspiciously bare, and testing out its extra suspension on hair pin turns. Harry was pressed against the window; his seatbelt was useless against shear G force Tonks' driving was producing. He looked over to said driver; her hair a shade of orange to match the car, an intense gleam in her eyes that Harry hoped was a sign of Tonks' intense concentration on the road.

Luckily it was, unfortunately, Tonks also parked the car in a way that made Harry hit his head on the dash board while making him queasy. Grumbling about 'orange haired nymphs' as he checked his watch while rubbing his head, _got 2 minutes till the train leaves_.

"C'mon Har," replied Tonks as she draped one of her arms around Harry's neck, "Don't forget the trunk in your pocket, can't have you losing a buttocks, now can we?"

"Suppose not," replied Harry as his hand traced his back pocket of his dark blue jeans, "Are you guarding the train?"

"Not what makes you think the Express needs guarding," asked Tonks as she dusted off the shoulders of his brown leather jacket, like a big sister would before straitening his white t-shirt underneath, "Just some last minute security, you know, Order member in the thick of it kind of jive."

"Tonks," said Harry as he lightly pushed her hands away, "I think I look proper enough for my friends."

"Oh, yes, quite proper," replied Tonks with a cheeky smile, "As well as for the _Teen Witch Weekly _photographers."

"Please," replied Harry as he and Tonks passed through the barrier, "No mentioning photograumph!"

A bush of brown hair had enveloped Harry's vision, "Oh Harry, are you okay, are you alright, I should have written more or visited or…"

"Hermione, what are you on about," replied Harry as he gently pushed one of his best friends, albeit one that was highly distraught, off of him.

"The…the…Diagon Alley attack of course," replied Hermione as Ron and Ginny made their way over, "The _Prophet_ said it was you that helped fight against the attack, and it also said that two Death Eaters were killed…"

"Hey there, mate!" greeted Ron with a thump on to Harry's shoulder.

"Heya Harry," replied Ginny as she was subtlety bouncing on the balls of her feet, "I'm excited about this year, I mean, it seems they have been slightly bad if not worse in the past. Hopefully this one will go well, especially with OWLs and all…"

"Ginny, don't think you can change the topic," replied Hermione, "Now tell us what happened Harry, I mean you went out of communication for a week afterwards. We thought you were hurt!"

"We did," asked Ron as Hermione elbowed his ribs, "Oh, right, Hermione worried that something horrible had happened."

Hermione turned her glare at Ron, who held his hands up defensively, "What, I figured that if something happened, we would have known."

Hermione's face slackened as she looked at Ron, "Who are you and what have you done with Ron?"

"Um…" said Ron as he looked between Harry, Hermione and Ginny as he pulled his long sleeves down, "I…I…am me."

Trying to save his friend, Harry stepped into the conversation, "I took a vacation for week, alright, and I needed a break."

"Oh we understand Harry, dear," replied Mrs. Weasley as the she and Mr. Weasley walked in to kiss their children, both biological and emotional, goodbye, "Have a safe year, all of you."

"Yes, make sure that you all keep out of trouble," replied Mr. Weasley as he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder as if to reinforce the statement double for him.

All around, parents were saying fair wells to their children. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny passed by Neville, who was getting what looked like a slightly publicly cold and formal hug from his grandmother, he soon joined the group as they approached three other classmates of theirs, who were looking upon the entrance of one of the carts. At the entrance of the third chart were four figures, and Harry new something horrible was brewing.

Sneer besmirched face that was framed by his platinum blonde hair stood Malfoy, to his right and left, effectively blocking the doorway, were the lumps he used as body guards, Crabbe and Goyle. In front of them was Dean, displeasure was written all over his face. Not wanting to jump into a situation, Harry looked at the people that were looking on for answers.

Remembering one of them was named Michael Corner, because he was Ginny's ex boyfriend as well as supposedly dating Cho, Harry's ex. He was surrounded by his usual friends, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, all of which were members of the D.A., and their parents (save Corner's) were Order of the Phoenix members. Having some faith in these three, Harry turned to them.

"What's going on over there Michael?" asked Harry to Ginny's ex.

Slightly surprised by being talked to by Harry, especially on a first name basis, Michael turned to the Boy-Who-Lived, "Seems that Malfoy and his lot won't let Dean onto the Express, saying stuff like 'he shouldn't get on if he wanted to live by the end of the year'."

"And your not helping him out?" asked Harry appalled at the three members of the D.A.

He turned to his friends, his intent on asking them to help him out with Malfoy and his lot. A sharp cold feeling pierced his chest. Harry froze and looked at his friends wide eyed.

"Get on the train now," said Harry softly.

"Harry, what is it?" asked Hermione.

"My…pendant," replied Harry.

"Oh, Harry," admonished Hermione, "There is no way for a pendant to be charmed to inform someone of bad omens; Seamus was just making up some story for his gift..."

Flashes of light were seen in the air, as everyone turned to see at least fifteen black robes appear. The flashes of light were spells that were being cast into the back of parents, who watched the kids leave for the school year. Flicking his wrist to release his wand, Harry start to make his way over to help the shaky defense that was started by some brave parents, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Tonks. He was grabbed by the shoulder and turned around to look upon six people, three of whom were his friends; the other three were people that he taught.

"What do we do Harry," asked Hermione slightly fearfully.

Not want his friends in _this_ conflict, Harry needed to get them off the platform, the Hogwarts gave a last boarding whistle, spells flying around, some leaving scorch marks on the train side, parents running around, some pushing their kids onto the train cars, train cars, "Get on the train, now!"

The seven of them ran to the compartment door just as the train started to leave. They heard Malfoy shout something like 'Told you, you should have gone home you filthy mudblood' before shutting the door in Dean's face. The train started to move onwards, being punctual seemed to be paying off, most of the students were safe. Keyword: most.

"Son of a bitch!" yelled Dean as the train pulled away from the platform and looked back at the seven others.

"Bloody wanker," replied Ron as he continuously glanced over his shoulder, "Not to frighten you all, but it seems their coming this way."

_SHITE! Not even back into England for twenty-four hours and I already have an attack planned on me_, thought Harry, "Alright, wands out you lot."

Eight students stood in a clustered group together, five Gryffindors and three Ravenclaws. All were shaking, but for various different reasons, Harry's was because he didn't want to see his friends hurt, _to what ever deity that is up there, please look after my friends_.

"We should help the other and not weight here," said Ron, the look in his eyes said he wanted to anything but.

The group started to walk over to Tonks and the Weasley mother and father, coping how Harry was crouched low so as to not give notice to the Death Eaters. Neville and Anthony helped pull away some of the parents that had gone down. Whether they were dead of not was left to be seen. They soon filled in the gaps of the line to help against the Death Eaters, of which only three had gone down.

Tonks was the only Auror present, which slightly miffed Harry, but then he saw several others that were sprawled on the ground, the most recognizable was Dawlish who was bleeding from his head and very pale.

"Does the Order know?" shouted Harry as he made his way next to Tonks; Ron, Hermione and Ginny were next to the Weasleys; Anthony, Neville, Michael, Terry and Dean were all working together.

Tonks looked over at Harry still firing spells at the Death Eaters, "You should have been on the train!"

Ignoring her comment Harry urged his previous question again, "Yes they know," replied Tonks, "I got word off as fast as I could."

"What time will they be here?" asked Harry as he sent a stunner at the Death Eaters, it did nothing except get deflected into the stone archway; They had blocked the main exit, and the weight on Harry's shoulder confirmed that anti-apparation jinx was up as well, no way for flight, just fight.

Harry heard another body of a parent hit the ground as Tonks said, "ETA fifteen minutes."

"Why so long," asked Harry and wondered, _what the bloody hell is ETA?_

"Sorry, Harry but if you haven't noticed, they're blocking the entrance and no one can apparate in or out," replied Tonks as she sent a cutting hex that tore one of the Death Eaters' robes on his left forearm and exposed the dark mark.

Harry looked over to how his friends were doing. Ron was sending hexes and curses as fast as he could into the left side of the Death Eaters' formation, while Hermione worked on constructing shields around them, Ginny trying to revive the fallen in hopes to have the numbers higher. On the right, Neville and Dean were kneeling and sending off curses, while Michael and Terry were standing behind them and firing at the Death Eaters, Anthony was erecting every shield charm he knew about. Harry could tell by the look in his face and sweat on his furrowed brow that the pressure of the fight had made him nervous and distraught and he wasn't thinking, more like reacting, fast enough. And he knew it.

The parents were more of a motley crew than he and his friends. The were standing side by side trying to prevent the Death Eaters from moving forward, not realizing that the train had already left with their students. They were dropping like flies. Harry hissed in pain as he felt some hex skimming his ear, just missing his head. He reached upwards and felt the raw sensation of having several layers of skin removed. Harry quickly put forth an idea he got from Moody's journal and transfigured three of the cobblestones that floored the platform. There was now a three brick wall that was waist high and offered some protection. He pulled Tonks down behind the wall, a ball of fire missing her shoulder.

"Where's the Order," asked Harry as he panted and fired hexes between the gapes of the three brick wall.

"It must be taking them longer then expected," replied Tonks as she took up Harry's idea and was firing from behind the wall.

Because it brought attention to itself, the Death Eaters were now concentrating on peppering the wall with spells, luckily none of them tried the Killing Curse, because that would have destroyed it and the people behind it.

It was a Reducutor Hex that did it. Anthony took it straight in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground, his head hitting the ground hard while his shoulder was bleeding freely, though not the dark red blood of a serious wound. Making up his mind, Harry bounded from behind the wall, sprinting hard to the other four. Tonks had tried to grab him and bring him down, but she was soon back onto the defensive from behind the walls.

Harry made it over to Anthony's fallen form and quickly checked him over.

"Harry," shouted Neville, "We can't hold it for long!"

Trying to think fast for a plan of action, Harry shouldered Anthony, holding him with his left hand, the other with his wand on the enemy.

"Dean," said Harry, hoping his instincts were right, "Take Anthony's wand, use them both, cover our backs, we're all heading to the wall."

Harry didn't understand it, but they followed his idea. Harry, Anthony weighing him down, tried to walk as fast as he could to the wall. Neville, Terry, Michael followed him, firing spells at the Death Eaters, though none compared to Dean's fury. With both wands in his hands, Dean was doing more damage than anyone could in the whole fight. He sent a Reducutor Hex into the cobbled stone, and as fast as he could used the other wand to expel the stone into the Death Eaters. His movements seemed to blur; _damn, _thought Harry, _Dean is really fast_.

There were three Death Eaters standing close to the wall, looking at Harry and his group as they approached. The two that stood behind the obvious leader, were using covering hexes.

"Give us the half-blood prince," ordered on the leader curtly, "Or die, it's your choice."

Harry sent a spell at the Death Eater, having no clue who the half-blood prince was, though he thought that it would be funny if that's how Voldemort referred to him. _Chosen one from the Prophecy_, thought Harry as he sent hex after hex at the Death Eater, _Bet Voldemort fancies himself the king._ The three behind him tried to help out against the other two Death Eaters, while Dean focused himself on the main force.

Michael was the first fall, stricken down by a stunning charm. Neville took down one of the Death Eaters with a Conjunctivitis Curse and a stunning charm, though he was taken out when a piece of rock hit his head, most likely from one of the Death Eaters that were getting battered by the stones from Dean. Still holding Anthony upwards and firing curses, Harry tried to move around and dump the weight before the person was injured to much. Harry, Terry and Dean made it around the wall, all hauling someone else.

"Give us the half-blood prince," ordered the Death Eater again as Harry started to lower Anthony, and noticed that Tonks had been behind the wall still, firing from the gaps.

_Don't do it_, thought Harry, though it seemed that Tonks could not hear his thoughts as she jumped up, leveling her wand into the chest of the leaders back up and shouted, "_Reducto!_"

A hole about two inches in diameter was the entrance wound of the spell as it burrowed it's way through the left side of the Death Eater's chest. The exit wound was five inches in diameter, successfully putting a hole in his left lung. The Death Eater fell to the ground, bleeding dark red and coughing up blood from under his white mask. What was left of his lung filled up with blood, as well as his other lung, and he lay there. Staring at the bright sky as he slowly drowned in his own red and viscous pure blood.

The other Death Eater was beyond rage as he watched his comrade in arms die, raising his wand and making a large jabbing motion while saying, "_Staurovw!_"

The iron spike was fast approaching Tonks' neck, and Harry knew what would happen if it connected. Tonks was still in shock from making her first kill and couldn't move. Harry straightened up and pushed her left shoulder with his left hand. She started to fall sideways and out of the way of the metal spike. She fell over, while Harry was still falling forward, his left hand where Tonks' neck was just a minute ago.

Sharp, agonizing pain was all Harry felt as the iron spike entered the center of his hand from behind. The seven inch iron spike had stopped half way in Harry's hand, the tip protruded from his palm as the flat square head came from out of the back of his hand. His fingers curled inwards slight to the red spike as his blood start to spill forth.

Tasting copper in his mouth, Harry realized that he bit down too hard from the pain. Trying to get his thoughts together, Harry turned his wand to the Death Eater. Terry and Dean were at Tonks' side, not seeing what had happened to Harry. Looking into the malicious glinting cobalt blue eyes of the Death Eater, Harry faltered slightly and didn't send of a hex in time.

"_Accio spike_," said the Death Eater, the smirk apparent in his voice.

**_PAIN,_** screamed Harry's mind, it was an intense and unforgivable pain as the spike had returned to the Death Eater. Though it's exit was not the same way it had entered. Harry looked at his hand between his tears, torn straight in half, down the middle, only held together by the skin and muscle that connected to his wrist. His thumb, middle and index fingers stayed upright while his ring and pinky finger fell to the side, rubbing against the forearm do his leather jacket. Blood was pouring out from his hand fast, along with the spurt of what used to be a vein until the spike had ripped it in two.

Falling to his right knee and cradling his broken and torn hand, Harry looked up at the Death Eater who was leaning forward against the wall. Harry imagined the delightfully smirk on his face and shakily rose to his feet. The pain was too much for Harry, he felt the movement of his bones in his hands, the feeling of hand being torn into a 'V' shape. Filled with anger and hatred, Harry turned quickly slashed and jabbed his wand in furry.

The maroon slash surprised the Death Eater; think he had gotten one over Harry, only to underestimate him. The slash connected with his chest and arms. Harry had made a giant slash, which the Death Eater now realized was quite powerful as he watched his arms fall off, blood pouring from them freely like water from a hose pipe. However, the Death Eater also realized that Harry had hit his chest too. The movement of looking down sent his top half off balance, the head and upper chest fell forward and landed hard against the stone.

Unfortunately, the Death Eater still hadn't lost consciousness as his head and upper chest watch from the ground as his legs and the rest of his torso fall sideways on top of one of his arms. The feeling of blood pooling around his head was the Death Eater's last feeling of the outside world as his senses started to shut down. Knowing that he was dying, he did the only thing he could and chanted the Oath of a Walpurgis Knight until it all the words began to smoosh together in his oxygen and blood deprived muddled brain as he slowly passed on.

Harry looked at his fallen foe, no emotion on his face, as smoke started to trail out of the left sleeve of his leather jacket. Had Harry not been in extreme pain, he would have felt the branding of another name on his bicep. Wanting to have some affect on the outcome of this battle, _blast the consequences_, thought the teen as he looked at the pale face of Terry and the determined gleam in Dean's eye, Harry stood up from behind the wall, battling the pain of his hand as he sent the same curse, over and over and over.

Smoke was pouring out of his sleeves and surrounding him as the black robed mass was cut down more and more. Arms and legs could be seen lying under the Death Eaters, as well as some fallen bodies. Harry wasn't paying attention to who was watching him. He wasn't even paying attention as he slowly started to sink to the ground. With one last curse, Harry fell over, behind the wall he created for protection, in a poll of his own blood. He was extremely pale, and considering he just came back with a rich tan, meant it was from blood loss. Smoke surrounded him, as well as the smell of burnt flesh.

Everyone was still firing off spells as the first Order member broke through the barrier to take down the remaining Death Eaters, of which there weren't many because of Harry, as well as the arrival of back up Aurors, Medi-Wizards and Witches, the Hit Wizard Squad, and several emergency Healers from St. Mungo's. Harry was taken to St. Mungo's immediately, and when he passed the painting of the former Headmistress Dilys Derwent, it had been forty-five minutes since the spike was torn from his hand.

Monday, September 2nd, 1996

That's what the calendar said as Harry sat up in his bed and put his glasses on. Looking down at his left hand, Harry saw that it was wrapped in some kind of blue film, the ring and pinky fingers together, as well as the index and middle finger together and the thumb by itself. Around his palm was thick, flat black cord that tide the two halves of his hand together, the same type of cord, though smaller, tied Harry's fingers together. Flexing his hand and not feeling any pain, Harry wondered if there would be any lasting affects.

The curtain that separated him from the other of the ward was opened as a sickly thin man that was around five feet seven inches tall entered the room. His lime greens healer robes hung loosely on his frame, his brown hair fell onto his shoulders. His hair, as well as the rest of him, was in obvious fatigued, yet even so, he turned toward Harry and smiled kindly.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," replied the man, "I'm Healer John C. Johnson, and how is your handing doing?"

"There's no pain," replied Harry as he flexed his hand, "What' this stuff on it?"

"Anti-bacterial and viral wrap, we could mend some of the damage, but a lot of it needs to happen naturally," replied Healer Johnson as he took Harry's hand to examine it, "The cords are to hold the palm together so that it heals properly. We separated your middle and ring fingers so that they wouldn't fuse together, also give you some mobility with it, though slightly limited."

"Thank you," replied Harry as he looked into the jaded eyes of the Healer, "How are the others?"

The smile on Johnson's face faded into a frown as he consulted his clipboard, "We were not able to save some of the parents, though all of your fellow students survived, as well as their parents. Anthony Goldstein just need some quick spell work and bandages, though it was tough because we got to him after an hour, he would like to see you later on if that's okay, I think your up to it. Neville Longbottom, Michael Corner and Auror Nymphadora Tonks were just in shock, Neville's and Michael's more so for getting stunned and hit in the head, respectively. While Auror Tonks is in shock for other reasons we believe."

Harry nodded and sighed in relief that his friends were fine, or relatively so, "I'd like to see them, if that's alright."

Healer Johnson was about to reply when the curtain was moved aside again, this time by Kingsley Shacklebolt. The look on his face clearly meant that this was not a personal visit.

"The Minister of Magic would like an audience with Mr. Harry Potter," boomed the Auror as Harry thought, _what does that bugger want?_ "Thank you for helping Mr. Potter, Healer Johnson, though the Minister requests his presence alone."

"Thank you," replied Healer Johnson as he got up, "And I'll talk to you later Mr. Potter, I still have some things to tell you about your hand."

"Thank you," replied Harry as Johnson walked out side of the curtain back to the rest of the ward as the lime green bowler and violet pinstripe robe wearing Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, walked into the room with a politician's smile.

"Thank you Auror Shacklebolt, if you would guard the curtain," replied the Minister.

The seconded Auror Shacklebolt turned around, his smile dropped as he turned to look at Harry. He moved a chair over and sat in front of the teenager, crossing his legs and leaning back slightly, _probably wants to be intimidating, the ponce_ thought Harry.

"How are you, Harry," asked the Minister as though they were old friends.

Biting the inside of his cheek so as to remain civil and not retort in a bad manner, "A little damaged, but nothing I can't get over."

Leaning forward, the Minister placed the palms of his hands together leaning his weak chin against the tips of his fingers, and sighed, "You put me in a hard position, Harry. I don't know whether to condemn or commemorate you. You and your friends help save several lives yesterday; however, you killed several Death Eaters with a legal curse in an illegal way. For ever curse preformed on a living being, you would have been given fifteen years in Azkaban."

Harry wanted to interrupt the Minister and point out the clear errors he was thinking, however, Fudge continued with his obviously prepared speech, "Yet seeing how there is no Azkaban, and how the public will react if you were to be charged. Though, to exalt your actions will not be a wise move either."

_Like you would know anything about being wise,_ thought Harry, _some probably wrote this for you_.

"That is why we will not up play your actions yesterday like we have for some of your past actions. Your name will not be mentioned, nor will any of the other students with you, considering you are all minors, this would have been done to insure your protection," continued Fudge as Harry thought, _when have you ever with held my name from the paper?_ "There will be no hearing for your actions; these are the terms that Headmaster Dumbledore and I agreed upon. However, should you see fit to contribute to my campaign for the next election..."

"I'm sorry Minister," replied Harry, in slight relief about not having a trial, nor having his name in the paper, "But if I'm not mistaken, didn't you steal five million galleons from me."

"Steal is such a harsh word, Harry," replied Fudge, his face getting a shade whiter.

"Though the correct one," replied Harry a little bit furious, considering he was almost killed upon his return to England, "And now you ask for more? Oh, imagine how the public would like this to get out."

"You…you…can't…no," spluttered the Minister, "I'll…the public will think you paid me off, it would be…disastrous for both of us."

_Blasted politicians_, thought Harry, _if there is one thing that they know, it's politics_, "I won't give money to your campaign, what you have taken from should be enough, and my leverage over you."

"What you speak of, Harry, can be seen as treason and ground for imprisonment," growled Fudge, his face a deep shade of red.

"Last time I checked there is no Azkaban," replied Harry, "And this kind of talk is called politics."

"Politics is a very…iffy area were children should not mess around," replied the Minister.

"Good thing I'm not a child then," replied Harry as the Minister start to sputter 'you see here' several times, though they fell upon deaf ears, "I will however make some money available for the Ministry's use."

"Oh," said Fudge, not sure whether it is a good thing for Ministry funding over personal funding.

"I see the need to… serve the people," replied Harry, trying to make a statement that didn't seem to convoluted or mundane, "Therefore, I will free up five million galleons for a new prison."

"_Five million galleons_?" gapped Fudge, "That…that would…"

"Give you a lot of money for a prison," replied Harry, "…and all of that money will be used on the prison."

"We could just…put extra cells under the Ministry," pleaded Fudge in hopes of bank rolling some of the money.

"No, that would…make the Ministry too big of a target," replied Harry trying to think of something, a place no one can travel, or die escaping…, "_Merepeople._"

"Now see here," replied Fudge, "I would thank you for money for a prison, but how would the merepeople help us wizards out?"

_This is the mentality that got us into a war_, thought Harry to himself, "A prison underwater would be damn nigh impossible to escape and get into."

"Underwater," asked Fudge, his face bright red, "That would be…that take…"

"All of the money, yes," replied Harry, "That's what I ask my money to go for, hire a think tank of some inventors, try the private industry."

"When can I expect the transfer?" asked Fudge.

"I'll talk to my advisor Griphook in the morning," replied Harry, "If that's all you're here for, I think this meeting is over."

"Now see here, Potter," replied Fudge, "As Minister, I decide when a meeting is over, and consider this one over."

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes as the Minister of Magic donned his lime green bowler before putting on a fake smile and stepping out. Kingsley peeked behind the curtains briefly and gave a wink to Harry before moving onwards to guard the Minister. Harry leaned back slightly, shaking his head and flexing his hand.

Healer John C. Johnson returned into Harry's section, "Hopefully that went well."

"If the Minister's involved, does it ever," asked Harry.

"Wouldn't know," replied the Healer, "All I know is that I'm seeing more patients then ever. Now back to your hand, there are some restrictions."

Harry looked at his hand, _thank Merlin I'm not left handed_, as Johnson continued, "You won't be able to hold that much weight with it, nothing over half stone. Also, you can't do anything that needs anything over a slight grip. We don't want any damage done."

"What about qudditch?" asked Harry.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but no qudditch," replied Johnson, "I read the papers too, so I know what it means to you to play qudditch. I also know that you have been taking martial arts lessons."

"I thought they released that in _Teen Witch Weekly_," said Harry as he looked at the Healer side ways.

"My daughter reads that rubbish and can't stop talking about you," replied the Healer, "Maybe you could say hello to her later on in the year, she's a Hufflepuff sixth year."

"I thought I know all the people in my grade," said Harry.

"I highly doubt that," replied the Healer, "Not only is she a little…timid, but Hogwarts does teach a thousand kids."

"No," replied Harry.

"Very much so," replied Johnson, "Though they are not so much in the 'popular' crowd."

"Popular crowd?" asked Harry.

Johnson laughed, "I can't believe I'm the one telling you this. Harry, you and your friends are the 'popular' crowd."

"Uh…err…how?" stumbled Harry, _why do I have to always be hit with a lot of information at once?_

"Harry, quit beating around the bush," replied Johnson, "You're famous, and the people around you are famous. How can you not be popular, look what happened over the summer, yea? Seems everyone started to copy your style because you were and are a hero."

"Not so much a hero," replied Harry as he rubbed his left bicep with his good hand.

Johnson shook his head, "You'll find your jacket on the chair, and didn't remove your shirt or pants, no need. You'll find Anthony two curtains down, and Nymphadora across from him, Neville and Michael were released last night and are at Hogwarts with everyone else. The only other patients in the ward are the adults from the attack and some of the Auror guards. Would you like anything else?"

"No, thank you," replied Harry as he got up and slide his feet into his boots, "When will I be going to Hogwarts?"

"Professor Dumbledore will pick you and Anthony up at noon," replied Johnson as he checked his pocket watch, "Currently, it's nine thirty. It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Potter, though I do wish it was under better circumstances. I hope the next time I see you, it is not in my ward. Oh and do remember that you have a check up with Madame Pomfrey in a month."

"Thank you once again, Healer Johnson," replied Harry as he slipped on his leather jacket after checking his holster.

"Your welcome, Harry," replied the sickly thin and jaded Healer as he shook Harry's right hand and made his way to the flap, "Oh, and please do try and say hi to my daughter, her name is Anita, she's friends with Eloise Midgen. Have a good day."

"You as well," replied Harry as he followed the doctor out into the bright white ward that had walls lined by curtains that were beds just like Harry's.

"May I come in," asked Harry as he looked at the closed curtain that was the entrance to Anthony Goldstein's room.

"Yes, please," said a some what strained, yet still strong, feminine voice.

Harry walked past the curtain into room that was identical to his, one bed where Anthony lay, a bandage on his shoulder. A chair was pulled next to him where a women that had the same brown hair as Anthony, as well as pale blue eyes, though hers were not behind a pair of glasses. _Mrs. Goldstein_, thought Harry.

"Thank you for coming, Harry," replied Anthony as he started to sit up, though his mother gently forced him down.

"Honey, please don't strain yourself," she said, "Oh, where are my manners?"

"In these times," replied Harry, "I am finding that manners are sometimes at a lost. I'm Harry Potter, though I bet you've guessed that by now, and helped Anthony last year prepare for his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., I heard you did well by the way."

Anthony snorted slightly before motioning to the door, "Might want to put and Imperturbable Charm on that."

Mrs. Goldstein started to open her purse to cast the charm, "Please, allow me," replied Harry as he flicked his wrist and cast an Imperturbable Charm with a barely a whisper.

Anthony's mouth formed and 'O' shape as Mrs. Goldstein studied him carefully, "Corrine Goldstein, pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter…"

"Please, call me Harry," said the raven haired teen as he shook Mrs. Goldstein's, "And…I…err…apologize for interrupting you."

"Quite alright," she replied, "I was just going to say that you are quite modest about the help you have given my son."

"Mum," pleaded Anthony.

"Mrs. Goldstein, where is Mr. Goldstein," asked Harry.

"I'm afraid he hasn't come back from his mission yet for the Order," she replied as she turned to look at Anthony, "I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I do know that he would be both proud and quite upset with you young man."

"Mum," pleaded Anthony again.

"Don't think you can go gallivanting about to save the world," she replied before remembering that Harry was there, "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you were here for a second."

"You don't know how refreshing that feeling is," replied Harry, "But I think I speak for both Anthony, me and all of the others that were there yesterday, when I say that we didn't go looking for trouble, it sort of found us."

"Quite," replied Mrs. Goldstein as her eyes traveled to Harry's left hand, "I see it found you too."

"This," replied Harry holding up his wrapped and bound hand, "Just a scratch, really."

Mrs. Goldstein gave him a skeptical look, though Harry had bought enough time for Anthony to push himself upwards into a sitting position.

"Harry," replied Anthony, "I wanted to…thank you for…saving me yesterday."

"I think I did more harm then good," replied Harry.

"Nonsense," replied the other teen as he pushed his glasses back, "You noticed that I couldn't take it, and the second you had a chance you helped the others get some protection while hauling my dead weight."

"Don't say dead," snapped Mrs. Goldstein as Harry instinctually rubbed his bicep through the leather.

Sighing, Anthony continued, "And as you know I happen to be somewhat of a bookworm, though not as much as Hermione, I'll admit. I do know, though, that I owe you a Wizard's Debt because of what you did for me yesterday."

"I don't seek a debt you owe me," replied Harry, "You being alive is reward enough."

Anthony laughed, "Some how, I thought you might take it like that. However, it's an ancient magic that can not be reversed or stopped."

"Okay, just don't…don't…trade your life for mine," replied Harry, "I wouldn't considered the debt…repaid, if you did."

Anthony nodded, while Mrs. Goldstein was clearly holding back tears. _Parents_, thought Harry, _wish I knew what that felt like_.

"You know when we get out of this place?" asked Anthony.

"Healer Johnson said we leave at noon," replied Harry, "And also, the other are fine."

"Thank Merlin," replied Anthony, "Did…did…the Death Eaters get away."

"It's hard to get away from death or a Ministry holding cell," replied Harry.

"But not impossible," replied Anthony, his eyes flicking to Harry's scar.

"Nothing's impossible," replied Harry, "I have to see another person, and that conversation may take longer."

"We understand," replied Anthony as he looked at his mother, who nodded, "See you at noon, yea?"

"Of course," replied Harry as he shook Mrs. Goldstein's hand again, "Pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Goldstein, give my best to Mr. Goldstein."

Taking down the Imperturbable Charm that was on the door, Harry walked across the ward to Tonks' room. He paused outside of it for a few seconds taking several deep breaths. Hearing the Auror's sobs, Harry questioned what he might say to her. _Stick with what Remus told you_, was his resolution as he stepped through the curtain.

Tonks was curled up in a fetal position on her bed, her shirt was pulled down over her legs to keep them close to her body. She was crying softly as her brown hair feel about her face, shoulders and arms. Tonks was shaking slight with every sob, Harry could see brief glimpses of her pale face from were he was standing. It seemed that Tonks had dropped all of her abilities in her grief, and it kind of shocked Harry to see the usual feisty and foxy Tonks that was outrageous and still attractive, reduced to the plain looking girl that was sobbing in front of him.

Harry leaned over and rested his palm on your head, his thumb gently rubbing her forehead and brow, "Tonks, I'm here."

"Sir… Sirius," sobbed the Auror though her closed eyes as Harry's chest tightened at being called by his late godfather's name.

_It must have hurt more then she's letting on_, thought Harry, "No, Tonks, it's Harry."

"Har…Harry?" asked Tonks as her eyes slowly opened up to reveal the large brown orbs of her natural eyes, surround by redness and puffiness from excessive crying, "Are you…okay?"

"I'm fine, Tonks," replied Harry as he slowly put his left hand behind his back, _I don't want her to know, it would hurt her more_, "How are you."

Tonks gave a snort of grim laughter, "I'm a murderer…I'm just…like the Death Eaters."

"No your not," replied Harry, "They wouldn't be half as remorseful for killing someone."

"I should have…used stunner," continued Tonks as she sobbed, Harry leaned over a little so she could lean against his shoulder.

_Even if I never had a shoulder to cry on_ thought Harry, _at least I can give one_, "Tonks, what you did was neither right nor wrong."

"What…do you…mean?" sobbed the Auror into Harry's jacket.

"This is a war, people die," replied Harry, "And war is always going to be a bloody mess."

"I stooped to their level," replied Tonks.

Harry grabbed her shoulders with both of his hands pushed her in front of him, his vibrant green eyes bored into her brown ones, "Tonks, you did not stoop to their level. A Death Eater doesn't care about the people he or she has killed. Tonks you are different then them."

"How do you do it?" she asked slightly fearful, yet awe inspired at the same time.

Harry removed his leather jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white t-shirt. On each bicep was what looked like a black band, but upon looking closer, Tonks realized that it was the names of those that Harry had killed branded into him.

On the left bicep, the band that wrapped around read: Quirinus Quirrell ∞ Christian Dobson ∞ Harris Francis ∞ Elspeth Neff ∞ Gerald Dellinger

While the right bicep's band read: Stephen Kyle ∞ Francis Montague ∞ Terence Higgs ∞ Rodney Pontner ∞ Geoffrey Glacier

"I couldn't sleep with out seeing their faces or feeling their blood on my hands," replied Harry, "What I choose might seem extreme, but it reminds me so that I can never forget. Because once you lose all the pieces, you become your enemy."

"Once you lose all the pieces, you become your enemy," said Tonks to herself.

"You said it not a few days ago, Tonks," continued Harry, "We are family, more so now then ever. Tonks, you are my big sister, and I will always be here for you."

Tonks looked onwards into Harry's eyes, a gentle tear rolling down her cheek as a small smile twitched at the corners of her lips, "Thank you."

"What are little brothers for?" asked Harry, _maybe family just isn't blood, but the feeling you have for someone else._

"I meant for now," she replied, "And saving my life. How did the others fair?"

"Neville went back last night, just rock to the head, nothing major," replied Harry as he hid his left hand behind his back more, "As did Michael, he was just stunned. Healer Johnson told me that the others were perfectly fine. Anthony got hit in the shoulder by a reductor."

Tonks paled when she heard that because the person she killed was with a Reductor Hex, Harry continued, "Don't worry, nothing to bad, no exit wound or even broken bones, it was sort of like a stab wound."

"And how do you know what a stab wound is like, Har," asked Tonks, Harry really didn't want to tell her about his…rendezvous with Piers and his gang, so his only answer was 'Um…', "Were you hurt Harry?"

"Um…," thought Harry as he hid his hand father behind his back, _should I tell her?_ He asked himself, all for naught because Tonks grabbed his hand, brought it forward and gasped.

"Great Merlin!" she breathed out.

"Look, Tonks, it's nothing," replied Harry as he tried to pull his hand away.

"The…spike hit you…didn't it?" she asked looking at his hand, "It's all my f…."

"Don't finish that sentence," replied Harry, "It was just bad luck that I put too much force in my push and my hand ended up in a direct line with the spike. But that not the half of it."

"Half…of…it?" questioned Tonks started to transform her appearance back into her old self.

"The bastard summoned the spike back," replied Harry with a sigh, "My…hand…was ripped in half."

"I'll kill the wanker," hissed Tonks.

"Too late," replied Harry as he tapped his left bicep, "That's the first thing I did. I think he was conscious for it to, but when all that left of you is separated arms and a torso from the upper chest and high, how long can you stay conscious."

"Dear Merlin," replied Tonks, "Please, no more details, though I am glade you got him…"

"And several others…" continued Harry.

"Are you in any…legal trouble?" asked Tonks, "I mean, Fudge would want to put your arse in prison, if there was one."

"We came to…an agreement," replied Harry.

Tonks snorted, "How much?"

"Actually, I made the plans for Britain's first underwater prison for about five million galleons," replied Harry nonchalantly.

"_Underwater?_" questioned Tonks, "Wait a tic...must have miss heard you, _five million galleons_."

"Yup," replied Harry, "Not only do I have more then that, I think this might be a great way to get the Merepeople on our side better."

"And the use of Dementors are obsolete," replied Tonks with a thankful look in her eyes, "But escaping by use of gillyweed…"

"Put it in a place deep enough that takes more then an hour," replied Harry, "Hard to get in and out, less escapes, and more jobs."

"I like the idea," replied Tonks.

"Thanks," replied Harry.

"Are you sure your okay?" asked Tonks again.

"Yes, Tonks," replied Harry, _I wonder if this is how Anthony felt with his mother._

"When do you leave?" she asked.

"Noon," replied Harry as he checked his watch, _11:30_, "I can send you owls over the year right?"

"No can do," replied Tonks, "Most likely I'll be on active duty for Aurors again with Order missions in between."

"Oh," replied Harry slightly down, "Okay."

"But tell you what," replied Tonks sitting up, "Use that nifty spell Remus taught you that he shouldn't have."

"Okay," replied Harry, "So I get to say your first name now?"

"Only when I'm not around," replied Tonks, "Other wise that gives me free tackling rights."

"Yea," replied Harry remembering when he said Tonks' first name on the beach a week ago, "Yea, don't want that to happen again."

"Go and get yourself something to eat," replied Tonks, "You got twenty minutes and you haven't eaten for nearly a day and half."

"Yes mother," replied Harry as he winked to Tonks and left to go get something to eat at the cafeteria.

Standing in the waiting room of St. Mungo's were the only actions Anthony Goldstein and Harry Potter were doing. It was 12:05 and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, was late. Anthony looked over to Harry as if expecting an answer. All Harry did was shrug in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs, picking up a magazine

_Urgh,_ said Harry mentally, _not another _Teen Witch Weekly. Harry tossed the magazine on the short table. Anthony sat next to Harry and picked up the _Teen Witch Weekly_. Harry looked at him with a raised eye brow.

"What?" asked Anthony, "They give good tips for dating."

"For girls dating guys," replied Harry.

"It works both ways," said Anthony, Harry wondered what way Anthony worked, "And besides, I sort of have a crush on Valerie Vaccaro."

"Who?" asked Harry.

Anthony looked at Harry as if he had to heads. He quickly flipped through the magazine before passing it to Harry and tapping a picture. Harry looked closer to see a curvy yet skinny Latin girl with thick wavy hair and a cute face. She wasn't spectacular looking, but definitely easy on the eyes. Harry's eyes traveled to her column, _New Age Wizarding Prophylactics._

"She writes the sex column for _Teen Witch Weekly_," replied Anthony.

"How old is she?" asked Harry.

"Hey, I liked her first," replied Anthony, "And she's nineteen, she would have nothing to do with either of us. What could we offer anyways."

_From what Jenn told me, a lot_, thought Harry, "Don't give up hope, Anthony, I'm sure if she new who you were, she might talk to you."

"Yea," replied Anthony slightly down.

"Look on the bright side," said Harry, "She could always need a research assistant."

"Last time I checked," replied the jovial voice of the Headmaster, "Ms. Vaccaro was indeed looking for a research assistant, though she did stress that he needed to be experienced slightly."

Harry cringed at his comment being heard by Dumbledore, while Anthony laughed merrily and padded Harry on the back.

"I must apologize for my lateness," continued the Headmaster, "However, finding adequate parking seemed to present a problem. However, St. Mungo's has allowed us access to the roof, and the problem is all but solved."

"All but solved, sir," asked Harry as Anthony looked bemusedly at the Headmaster.

"Harry, as we are not on the grounds of Hogwarts yet, the problem should be evident," replied the Headmaster, "But all shall be solved if you and Mr. Goldstein were to accompany me to the roof."

Harry looked onwards to Anthony, who shrugged in reply and followed Dumbledore to the lifts. Sighing Harry made his way to the lifts as well. Dumbledore hit the button for the roof and started to hum along with the lift musak. Anthony looked at Harry again and pointed to the eccentric Headmaster.

Harry leaned over and quietly whispered into Anthony's ear, "This is normal for him."

"On the contrary," replied the Headmaster, a slight shock to Harry, though not by much, that Dumbledore had heard him, "This happens to be my attitude when I am in deep contemplation. Though I find it hard to pace in small areas as such, that also help organize my mind as well."

"I'm sorry, sir," replied Harry.

"No need to be sorry, my boy," replied the Headmaster with his twinkling blue eyes, "Though the lesson from this is not to assume anything. The best learning is through experience."

Harry didn't know how this information settled with him.

"Don't get me wrong," continued the Headmaster as he looked at both Anthony and Harry, "Hogwarts does serve a purpose. That of educating young minds so as to have information to go out into the world and gain these experiences. To memorize an incantation is but half of the learning process, to be able to cast it correctly under the circumstances requiring it's need is what a full knowledge entails. Ah, here we are."

The lift doors opened to a simple, grey slate roof. Next to the lift sat a carriage with six thestrals tethered to it. The dragon looking horses that had wings seemed less scary to Harry, though not any less disturbing. Looking into their milky white eyes, Harry wondered if he was accustomed to them because one of their feathers resided in his wand or from the knowledge Hagrid instilled in him last year.

"I figured why wreck tradition even if you both were to arrive late," replied Dumbledore, "Though I must say we should get going, we will make it in time for dinner."

As Harry walked by the thestrals, each of their gazes fell upon him. They all seemed to look at him, yet beyond him, with their milky white eyes. Harry's eyes trailed to look at each on of them. As he made the door, he turned around to see one of the leathery feathers that made up the horse-like creatures' wing was missing from the thestral that was closest to the carriage from the left side.

Harry turned back and walked up to it and tentatively petted the leathery pummel of its head and whispered into its ear, "Thank you, my friend, for your feather. My wand would not have been perfect with out you."

The thestral did a mixture between a purr and nay in response and nudged Harry's hand. Soon afterwards, Harry Potter, Anthony Goldstein and Albus Dumbledore were in a school carriage and hurtling through the air to the grounds of Hogwarts. They had left St. Mungo's in London at 12:37 p.m. and a trip by thestral, as Dumbledore told the two teens, would take nearly three hours. Harry didn't think that it took so long to get from Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic last year, but then again his mind was not really on the length of the journey at the time.

Due to a strong head wind, and repeated attempts by the thestrals to find an alternate route around it, the travelers did not reach the grounds of the thousand year old castle until a little after five. Exhausted from the long journey, Harry wanted to head up to his dorm and get some rest. He had lost a lot of blood yesterday, as a result, even after multiple blood replenishing potions, Harry was quite sleepy. Harry had started to make his way to the Gryffindor common room when a slight cough interrupted him.

He turned around to see the Headmaster looking into his eyes. Harry immediately lowered them, not wanting his mind read at the moment. Anthony had already headed to his common room, already knowing the password as he was a prefect. Headmaster Dumbledore placed his aged, yet powerful, hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I think we need to have meeting Harry," replied Dumbledore, "Please, come to my office."

Not disagreeing, Harry nodded and allowed the Headmaster to lead him to the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore supplied the password of his customary confectioner. The office was similar to how Harry had left during the summer when he informed Dumbledore of the Azkaban siege. Upon seeing Harry, Fawkes trilled a few notes of phoenix song that reenergized Harry.

Harry took a sit in front of Dumbledore's desk, "How are you, Harry," asked the Headmaster as he steepled his fingers.

"Umm…fine," offered Harry.

Not pressing the issue, Dumbledore continued, "I hope your hand heals well. Are you understanding of the actions you took yesterday?"

"Thank you for your concern, sir," replied Harry, "And I do realize that I ended several lives yesterday."

"And does that bother you," asked Dumbledore.

"Yes," replied Harry, "Though I wish I could say no. I also realize that it most likely won't be my last time."

"I fear you may be right, Harry," replied Dumbledore with a heavy sigh, "Though your response does hearten me somewhat."

"Professor, what or who is the half-blood prince," asked Harry, it was a questioned that had been bothering him.

"We are not certain," replied Dumbledore, "This is the first instance that the Order has heard about such a title. This can only mean that a section of Voldemort's followers know about this, and none of them are in our service."

"Could it be…me?" asked Harry.

"It's a strong possibility," replied Dumbledore, "Though still a possibility. Out of the six of you that were accosted by Christian Dobson and his two unknown associates, only you, Harry, would be considered a half-blood. It is still uncertain."

"Oh, okay," replied Harry, _jeez, I don't need another title_.

"Classes were canceled today so that students could check up on and with families," replied Dumbledore, "The atrocious acts done yesterday by the Death Eaters have only gone on to support our cause, though the cost of that support was too high. Many families were broken yesterday, yet many lives were also saved by your actions, as well as those of Mr. Weasley, Ms. Weasley, Ms. Granger, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Thomas, Mr. Corner, Mr. Boot and Mr. Goldstein. A plaque for Special Services to the school will be put in the trophy hall with all of your names on it, though it will be put up quietly with out open knowledge to the Hogwarts community."

Harry nodded in acceptance as Dumbledore continued, "Are you positive there is nothing you want to talk with me about?"

"Positive, sir," replied Harry, not looking into the Headmaster's eyes.

"Very well, I will not keep you any longer, I can see that you are very exhausted, and I will admit that was an unusually long ride from London to here," replied Dumbledore with a slight smile, "Oh, and the password to Gryffindor tower is 'Liondragon'. Have a good rest Harry, and I hope you'll enjoy your first day of classes tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir," replied Harry as he got up and left Dumbledore's office and made his way to Gryffindor common room.

As he said the password, he couldn't help but think of Remus' wand, especially when he corrected Mr. Ollivander. _Chinese Fireball, no, Liondragon_, thought Harry, _coincidence? Never such a thing in my life_. Harry made the trek up into his dorm room were he fell into the only bed that did not have a trunk on the end of it. Shucking off his boots, and placing his glasses on the nightstand, Harry feel into a deep sleep because of his exhaustion.

_In his dream, Harry held the same figurine of a red dragon that Krum had in the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It started to grow hotter and hotter until Harry dropped it onto wood floor. The figurine of the Liondragon burned a hole straight down. There was a rumbling and shaking under Harry's bare feet. _

_First it was a jet of fire the spewed forth from the small hole, widening it. The rumbling grew in intensity, a screech of wild dragon could be heard. Louder and louder. The rumbling grew until Harry was brought to his knees. _

_The second Harry hit, a giant Liondragon broke through the wood shooting a fireball into the air. The splintered wood feel around Harry, so of it on fire. The dragon then landed in front of Harry and tilted it's head to the side. After it blinked its two sets of eyelids, it gave yet another horrible shriek before sending a fireball at Harry._

Harry screamed, his eyes flipping open to see a fuzzy mass of flaming red in front of him as he was being shaken violently. Continuing to scream, Harry flicked out his wand and tried to dose the fuzz red image with a stream of water. Spluttering and cursing was heard as the violent shaking stopped, the occasionally laughter in the background.

Harry stopped screaming and the water charm and put his glasses on to see a very wet and soggy looking Ronald Weasley glaring at him. Harry realized his mistake, confusing his best friend's hair with a fireball from a Liondragon. Harry felt ashamed at his reaction, but soon reality sunk in and he started to laugh his head off, Seamus, Dean and Neville had already beaten him to it.

"It's not funny," shouted Ron, as he tried casting a heating charm to dry himself off, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips, "Oh, alright, it is funny!"

The rest of the guys started to laugh harder, especially with Ron included. As the laughter died down, the red head thumped Harry on the shoulder.

"Cor Harry, remind me never to wake you up again," he said, "Unless I have my wand out when I do it."

"Even more reason to attack," replied Harry with a small smile.

"Maybe you should get those muggle things," replied Ron, "What are they called again…conticks?"

"Contacts?" questioned Harry.

"Yea, those," said Ron, "You should get a pair to tell the difference between me and Fanged Geranium."

"I'm surprised you even remembered the name," replied Harry as he slide his boots on and took out his trunk.

"Actually," continued Ron, "That's all I remember from Herbology."

"Not surprising," replied Harry.

"I'm actually hoping for a year without surprises," replied Ron.

"As are we all," said Harry, Neville, Dean and Seamus all at the same time, sending them into fits of laughter again.

**

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A/N: I hope this long chapter makes up for my missing last week, to let you all know, I passed my Senior Presentation and will be graduating this coming Friday. **

**_Staurovw_** some Greek dirivative of'to crucify'. Alexander the Great of Macedonian (which was par to Greece and spoke early greek) was known for crucifying over 3,000 people from an Isle that he conquered. He lined the crucifixes along the beach looking upon the Isle, don't you just love history?

The emergence of the Half-Blood Prince, who is it?

Poor Harry, I hate I had to injure him, but I've planed it for a long time. Can you all forgive me?

Fudge and his politics, what ever shall happen to that ponce?

Liked how I worked in the meaning of the wand core?

An underwater prison, in say the North Sea, would be impossible to escape because you would either drown or die of hypothermia. Oh the wonderful thoughts and ideas I have. Should it be called Atlantis, or is that too cheesy, maybe Nuffink?

I liked the overall character of John C. Johnson, the jaded healer. And for those that are wondering, his middle name is Cee , pronounced see.

What Johnson said about the 'popular' crowd and Hogwarts is true in this story, even JKR envisioned Hogwarts having 1,000 students. We only hear about a few of them, and why? They are the popular or semi-known ones.

Can any of you guess why Malfoy and his group were hassling Dean, oh, I think I've given too much away.

I would like to thank **HarryReader**, **mosleyn001**, **The Best witch of all**, **shawnculli**, **Tmctflyboy**, **jkarr**, **RENZO** and **Ansku** for all reviewing the last chapter. Your comments actually made my week because I was in a tough time planning for my internship and writing an essay for my college, which they made due the day I graduate. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to up date on Friday, as I will not have enough time to right another chapter right now, and it will be my graduation. I would also like to thank all of those that have read my fic so far, keep on keeping on. I hope you all are having some good times, and my latest chapter has brought a smile to your face.

Please review,

Thank you all,

forfie


	12. The Shyr Long Clan

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or in any have any control of the Harry Potter series, created by one JKR, nor am I making a profit from this. Anything that has never been seen before is a creation of mine; however, the world it is created in is not mine.

This is the unbeta'd form.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
by forfie

Chapter 12.) The Shyr Long Clan

"C'mon, Harry," pleaded Ron, "It's food, you know, as in eating."

"I know, Ron," replied Harry as he fastened a school robe over his non school clothing, "But I need some semblance of following the rules."

"Rules, shmules, I'm hungry," replied Ron as he started to push Harry out of the dorm room; Neville, Dean and Seamus had already left for dinner.

"When aren't you ever?" asked Harry as he and Ron ran out of the dorm, through the corridors all the way to the doors of the Great Hall.

Harry reached to push the door open and looked at the blue wrap around his left hand, _one month_, he thought, "Ron, can you get the doors?"

Ron's eyes quickly looked at Harry's hand and then away at the floor, "Sure thing, mate."

They walked into the bustling Hall, the food not yet out on the tables, fellow students talking amiably back and forth with news on they're families. The ones that had lost members of their house hold were not at Hogwarts, so there was no real down feelings, only those of hope and thankfulness that from the kids that were present. Harry sat down, right in between Ron and Hermione, across from Neville, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender. Ginny was sitting with her friends right now and talking amiably. Harry looked over to the Ravenclaw table, Anthony nodded in his direction while Terry waved and Michael gave a thumbs up.

He sat down and reached for a goblet with his left hand. He looked past the Ravenclaw table and into the face of Draco Malfoy, as well as the faces of Goyle and Crabbe. The usual pragmatic sneer plastered on the pale blondes face as he glared back at Harry. The contest would have continued if it weren't for Hermione's gasp and the flare of pain Harry felt.

"Merlin, Hermione," exclaimed Ron upon seeing Harry's face.

"Harry, what happened," asked the bushy haired girl as she was holding onto Harry's hand really tight, "Does it hurt?"

Harry gritted his teeth as he looked down at one of his best friends, Ron saved him the trouble of responding, "no, Hermione it doesn't hurt, look at his face for bloody Merlin's sake."

"Oh," said Hermione as she let go of Harry's hand.

"S'alright," replied Harry, "The healer says it will be better in a month."

"What about qudditch," asked Ron.

"You boys and your qudditch," replied Hermione.

"Actually, that what I wanted to talk about with you Harry," replied Katie Bell, who was standing behind the trio.

Harry looked at the slender girl with golden hair, the Gryffindor captain's badge a fixed on her small chest, "the Healer says that I can't play qudditch for at least a month."

"I feared that," replied Katie, "because you were going to have to go through tryouts."

"What?" asked Ron, "Katie, I dunno if you haven't noticed, but this is Harry Potter here."

"Yes, Ron, I've noticed," replied Katie, "but I can not change the rules of qudditch team tryouts as Madam Hooch has told me, repeatedly. Since you kicked off the team, Harry, how ever wrong it was, you can not play until you try out this Saturday."

"So no qudditch at all?" asked Harry, his slight good mood disappearing.

"I didn't say that," replied Katie.

"Might as well have," replied Ron, turning his back on his team captain.

"I think Katie has more to say," said Hermione who was looking at a sulky Harry and an upset Ron, "It would do best to listen to a girl when she has something to say."

"Thanks, Hermione," replied Katie, "I did check the rule book for the past day for any loopholes, and I was able to find one."

"Yes?" asked Harry in hopes of playing qudditch.

"You know I'm the captain right," asked Katie, Harry nodded, "So having you as captain would not be possible. However, we do need a manager, as well as a coach for a new seeker. This basically puts you on the reserve as well. It's the closest I got to actually playing, with out trying out."

"Could I try out at a later time?"

"Only if the new seeker left, or was thrown off the team," replied Katie, "Harry, I want to keep you on the team. You're an awesome player as well as an awesome person. This is the closest I could get you within the rules and your medical report."

"Okay," replied Harry, glad he could help out, though his qudditch career would be lacking for a month, "When do you need me?"

"This Saturday for tryouts, you pick the new seeker," replied Katie as she flounced away down the table as the food magically appeared, "See you there sport."

"Harry?" asked Hermione.

"What, Hermione," snapped Harry in a little frustration, "I'm sorry, it's just…a lot of things…are on my mind."

"Ron and I are here if you need to talk," said Hermione as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Yah, maa'ee," replied Ron with a mouth full of bangers, "Ee er fah oo."

"Thanks, Ron," replied Harry as he took his glasses off to wash the banger spray from Ron's mouth off them.

During the dinner, Professor McGonagall passed out time tables to everyone so that they would know what classes they were taking in the morning. Harry looked at his list in wonder, all he had was two or three classes a day with four independent studies. _Did I pick the minimum amount_, he questioned himself. For tomorrow, all he had was Creation in the morning, followed by three independent studies, lunch, another independent study, Defense Against the Dark Arts and another independent study.

Harry looked over to Hermione and pointed to his time table, she visible sighed, "Harry, honestly, do you think the professors could actually teach every year every day? They need at least one free period a day, also independent work builds character."

"You have a lot of that," replied Ron, filling up his plate for fourths.

Hermione ignored him, "Looks like we share Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms and Intelligent and Sentient Beings together."

Ron grabbed Harry time table, "Yea and you got me for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Creation."

"So I don't have Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures with anyone?" asked Harry.

"Actually," replied Neville in his soft voice, "I'm taking Herbology."

"And I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures," replied Dean to the astonished looks of others, "What? It's the only class were I can draw and not get punished for it."

"We're all in Defense together right?" asked Ron.

"Not us," replied Seamus as he indicated Parvati and Lavender, "They put us in a different block."

"So they split upped the houses?" asked Harry.

"Yes," replied Hermione, "It happens for all students after 5th year, it helps builds friendships outside of the common room."

"As well as meeting new girls," replied Seamus with a coy grin.

"So long as they don't wear green," replied Ron, Hermione was scowling at the red head, while Parvati and Lavender both slapped Seamus' shoulders.

"I dunno," replied Neville in his soft voice, a smile playing at his lips, "Tracey Davis sure is a looker."

Dean patted him on his back and laughed hard as everyone else stared at Neville in shock before they joined in laughing.

_Room 9_ read Harry from his time table in the morning as he, Ron, Seamus and Dean made their way to the Creations class room. They waited outside of the closed door on the main floor of Hogwarts, apparently they were the first to arrive.

"Wonder how this class is going to be," asked Ron as he rummaged around his bag to make sure that he had his book, parchment and quills.

"Dunno, though I heard there was some artistic side in this class," replied Dean, "I hate how I have to wait till next year to take an actually art class."

"They switch the four electives every other year," whispered Seamus to Harry, "I found out from Neville last night."

"Where is everyone," asked Harry, wondering why Neville and the others weren't there.

"They wouldn't be here if they didn't sign up for a class," replied Terry Boot as he joined the line, along with Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner.

"So we are the only one that signed up for it," asked Harry.

"No, Potter," replied Zacharias Smith, Justin Finch-Fletchley and a very skinny girl with brown hair followed him, "you'll find that there are four houses at Hogwarts."

"Smith, shut your yap, or I'll shut it for you," growled out Ron as he started to roll up his sleeves.

Dean pulled back Ron as Anthony stepped between the two, "it's the first day, let's not try and have any fights, yea?"

Ron shook out of Dean's grasp and realized that he had rolled his sleeves. Immediately he tugged them down and tried to make it like he was making sure his wrist button was straight. Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron before the last of their classmates arrived, from Slytherin.

The door to the classroom opened as Blaise Zabini lead the crew of Slytherins forward, including Goyle, Theodore Nott and Tracey Davis. Harry looked at that last member of the Slytherin house as she sashayed her hips when she passed the threshold of the door and thought Neville had a keen eye for girls. The rest of the students followed into the classroom.

There were several windows on the far wall that were open and allowed the breeze of the early September morning in. If not, the heat from the round fire pit that was in the middle would have made the time in the room dreadful. In the corners were open cabinets full of supplies, one cabinet had various types and sizes of wood, another had various types of metals, the other had various types of stones and rocks, while the last had animal parts that were incased in jars filled with liquids that would have been common in Snape's office. Surrounding the pit of fire and burning coals were five work tables set in a semi-circle looking out onto the open windows. Wedged between a window was small black board, above that was a phrase printed on thick piece of parchment:

Invention is the mother of necessity

Not truly understanding what the saying meant, Harry took a seat in the middle work table. Ron sat next to him, just as a wrinkly, old hunchback woman made her way to the front. She was leaning heavily on a cane, her white hair was pulled back, exposing her receding hair line, and curled into a knot of some sort that looked like a bun, though not as professional like that of Professor McGonagall. Her black robes encased her, only exposing her head and hands, dragging against the flagstone floor. She shifted her beady black eyes to every face in the classroom.

"You are to partner up with no one from your house," she croaked out in harsh voice that reminded Harry of a woman that smoked too much, "did you not hear me? Get moving!"

The crowd moved around and looked for people that wore badges that weren't from their house. After everyone sat down, Harry was somewhat grateful for having Anthony as a work partner, though he didn't know what to think of the short haired sandy blonde that was Blaise Zabini. Zabini had never spoke out against Harry, well not vocally for all Harry knew, and he hoped that he wasn't like Malfoy.

Ron was partnered with the skinny girl that had long brown hair that reminded Harry of Healer Johnson, as well as Theodore Nott. Nott didn't look to happy with the arrangements considering that his father was a known Death Eater and was currently in St. Mungo's long term ward in a coma that he was not going to wake up anytime soon. Dean was with Justin and Corner, _he made it out fairly well_ thought Harry. Seamus was with Terry and Tracey, _he made it out even better_, thought Harry as he apprised the brunette that was sitting next to Seamus. The last group was Zacharias and Goyle, _those two belong together_, thought Harry as he turned to face the professor.

"I am Gladys Boothby," croaked out the woman, "I created the Moontrimmer in 1901 at the prime age of 37, that makes me really old and not as patient."

_Someone likes to beat around the bush_, thought Harry as he gulped.

"I will not tolerate any foolery in this class," she continued, "for I will only be in this room once a month."

The skinny girl that was in Ron's group raised her hand, Professor Boothby turned her head towards her, "name?"

"Johnson, Anita Johnson, ma'am," replied the girl as several of the boys in the class snickered.

"What is it Miss. Johnson?" asked the Boothby glaring at all the boys as they sobered up.

"You said you were going to be here once a month, and we have this class twice a week," replied Anita.

"If you didn't interrupt my Miss. Johnson, I would have gotten to that," castigated Professor Boothby, "as I was saying, I will only be here for one class out of a month. The person here to teach you for the other class periods will be Professor Gudgeon."

David Gudgeon looked rather like an old lion. There were streaks of grey in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows; he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp. He entered the room and smiled at the occupants warmly, causing a thin white line under his right eye to stretch into the wrinkled corners of his eyes. He proceeded to the front of the classes and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Thank you, Gladys," he replied in warm and smooth manner as he looked the aged lady, "do you want me to take over for the rest of the day?"

"I can't stand these young faces," replied the old witch as she made her way to the door and left the class room, Gudgeon laughed softly at the old lady's antics.

He conjured a simple work stool that he eased himself onto, his eyes searching the class, spending an extra few seconds when the yellowish eyes fell on Harry's emerald green. He smiled benignly at them and pressed his hands against his thighs as he took in the look around the room.

"As Professor Boothby introduced, I'm David Gudgeon," replied the professor, "I hold any of you to call me Professor, it sounds too formally for my ears, and considering I'm only work here part-time, I am technically not a professor. Just call me Mr. Gudgeon or David. Also, please excuse my colleague, she is rather old and feels that her time is better spent on the crossword puzzle for the _Daily Prophet_."

The class politely laughed as Gudgeon continued, "I'm a creator that is my profession for those that don't know. I helped on certain aspect in creating the Nimbus 2001, and currently, I'm employed by a company that will remain nameless, that wants to create a broom better then a Firebolt."

"There's no broom better then a Firebolt," replied Corner.

"Not yet, at least," replied Gudgeon to the laughter of the class, "though I am working on it with a team of creators. Mr. Potter, do you find that there are any problems with a flying a Firebolt?"

"Err…" replied Harry not expecting to be called on so unexpectedly, "Well…I haven't flown in a long time…"

"Understandable," replied Gudgeon, "I apologize for my random question. Besides that, I've created some random items here and there, like colour changing ink, Revealers, and my most recent invention, Chill-boxes."

"Chill-boxes," asked Seamus.

"That's right, they aren't on the market yet," replied the man as he smiled and shook his head, "No point in keeping a secret, soon they will be out on the selves in stores like Dervish and Banges. Chill-boxes are literally compartments that come in a variety of sizes that have a continuous cooling charm in them to keep items cold, like body parts for transplantation."

"Or butterbeer," replied Dean.

"I suppose," replied Gudgeon, "But I was thinking more along the lines of preserving flowers and other things that you need to chill so they last longer."

"Like food," asked Justin.

"I didn't intend for it to be used for food…" replied the instructor.

"Food sounds like a good idea," replied Ron while Harry rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, moving on," replied Gudgeon, "I'm here to inform you on the ways of creating, as well as practice engineering invention that might one day make you rich or famous."

"Too late," muttered Harry.

Gudgeon's lips turned slightly into a smile at hearing Harry's comment, and continued with his speech, "Each month, a project will be due. These will be the only form of grading in this class, however, you should pay attention to each lesson, for it will help you on your monthly project. The first lesson today is behind me.

"Invention is the mother of necessity," said Gudgeon.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around, sir?" asked Terry Boot.

"That is what most think, Mr. Boot," replied the instructor, "however, it is quite wrong. Glover Hipworth invented the Pepper-Up potion in 1789, his idea was to use it to cure hangovers. It worked great for it, and is still used to day as a remedy for the witch or wizard that 'parties' every so often. However, in 1793, the potion was discovered to cure the common cold. As such, it has been known as the cure for the common cold for quite some time, and the cure for hangover have gone into some form of anonymity that is normally passed down from father to son and is not publicized. How does this pertain to the quote?"

Goyle raised his hand, "hangovers aren't publici…publicize….publicized often?"

"Close, Mr. Goyle, but no cigar," replied Gudgeon and moved to the next hand, "yes, Mr. Zabini?"

"Whatever and invention is made for, is not always what it is used for," replied the short haired blonde, his brown eyes fixed on the quote.

"Good," replied Gudgeon, "Can anyone add more?"

Anita raised her slender hand to be the next called upon, "a dependence is then built onto to the invention making it necessary."

"Very good," replied Gudgeon, "Five points to Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Now let's go a little more in depth, shall we? Please turn your books to page sixteen and read about Elladora Ketteridge."

The class continued for the whole block of time, from seven o'clock to eight o'five. At one point, Ron had passed a note to Harry saying 'I can't believe we're being taught by Galvin Gudgeon's big brother'. For Harry, it was an interesting class because the way David Gudgeon taught was inspiring and the material just seemed…cool.

The rest of the time, Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville, who spotted the group in the hallways after his Charms class was over (there being two charms classes for 6th years), spent their time on the lawn by the side of the lake, enjoying the fresh air, and warm sun. Ron had to leave after the first independent study was finished to make it Divination on time, a class that switched between Trelawney and her tower and Firenze's ground floor pseudo-forest. Harry laid back and allowed the sun to wash over him and warm his bones. He listened to the friendly exchange between Seamus and Dean with the occasionally comment from Neville.

Neville and Seamus both had to leave for their Transfiguration class with McGonagall, again there were two 6th year classes for the subject because of the large amount of students enrolled for the subject. After they had gone in, Dean turned to Harry.

"Harry, there has been something that's been bugging me," said the coffee with a little cream skinned teen that had fought beside Harry.

Harry opened his eyes and turned to Dean and gave him his full attention for him to continue, "it's just that…the Death Eater the other day asked about handing him…some half-blood ponce, or something."

"The Half-Blood Prince," replied Harry, "I asked Dumbledore about it, he seems to think it's me."

"That would make sense," replied Dean, Harry gave him a weird look, "I don't mean it in a bad way…it's just, it always seems to be you."

"Tell me about," replied Harry.

"Well, everyone thought you were the Heir of Slytherin," relied Dean, "and also, Sirius Black was after you, and the time you were entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament…"

"Dean, I get the picture," replied Harry, "and it does make sense, but rest assured, I don't plan on being taken to Voldemort freely."

Dean shivered at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, something Harry ignored, "what about you, why did Malfoy hold you up the other day?"

"Oh, you know Malfoy," replied Dean as he dismissed the thought with a wave, "bloody prejudiced ponce he is, tried to stop me from going to Hogwarts. Didn't work, eh?"

"Suppose not," replied Harry, "you did really well out there the other day, thanks."

"If I didn't, we would have died," replied Dean, "I did what I could, you're the one that ended it basically."

"Yea," replied Harry as he looked at his hand, "I'm going to get some lunch."

"Sure thing, I'll come with," replied Dean as they both headed to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Hurry up you two," shouted Hermione as she was quickly walking up the stair case to get to the third floor corridor to the right.

"Hermione," pleaded a panting Ron, "we have plenty of time!"

"I thought I asked you two to start working out," asked Harry.

Ron's face paled a little, "well…I…"

"Oh, Ron," replied Hermione, her cheeks quite florid, "Harry asked use to start that so long ago."

"Your looking kind of piqued there too, Hermione," replied Harry as he stepped into the third corridor, a panting Ron holding to the banister and a red cheeked Hermione hold the stitch in her side; Harry on the other hand was perfectly fine because of his daily sprints and running for the past summer.

"Well I…sort of…power walked for mile…" replied Hermione.

"Ha," replied Ron as he started to get his breath back, "At least…Bill allowed me to ….use some of his weights…."

Harry smile at his friends, "you'll find you'll need a lot more for this class," he replied as he tried to open the door, only to find it locked shut, "what the…"

"I think we need to sign this," said Hermione as she pointed to a pedestal on the right of the door that had a piece of parchment on it.

Harry was slightly wary of signing a parchment, but then again, didn't Sun Gao make him sign a contract before. Harry read the line that Sun Gao scrawled at the top, _please sign in for roll and enter the classroom, I will be here shortly_. Biting his lip and looking at the others, Harry signed his name with the quill that Sun Gao had set up for all of them. Hermione followed afterward, as did Ron, seeing as Harry wasn't stricken down by any force of any kind. Harry once again tried the door, this time it opened to reveal the room that had once been Fluffy's guard post of the Philosopher's Stone. Now what once used to be cold flagstones, was bamboo padded floors that stretched to the walls, and the walls had to be at least fifty feet apart. The room was huge. There were three wooden columns on both the left and right that had several different style of weapons attached to them. On the right wall, manual exercise equipment that included treadmills, bench presses and a speed bag, as well as many other items that were designed to improve the physical condition of one's body. There was a small platform on top of the posts, which had no stairs or ladder for easy access.

The most impressive part though, was the back wall, of which hundreds of pillows and silks of various colours, including all of the house colours as well as every shade and in between and some more exotic flare (like violet), were placed for sit and relaxation. Above it, against the large wall that lead to a vaulted ceiling, was a flat slab of white rock that had a mosaic of a red dragon it. It was linked in a continuous circle, its head tilted forward. A red stream that represented fire was blown down toward the pillows, ending in a fireball that stopped at the end of the white slab. The oddest thing that Harry just realized was the picture wasn't moving.

"Wicked," breathed Ron as he looked in awe at the room as he headed over to the pillows and fell backward onto them.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she daintily sat down on one of the pillows and pulled out a book to read. _Most likely Sun Gao's book_, thought Harry as he scanned all the glinting metal that was on the wooden posts. There was no windows, just floating glowing orbs of light that hung around the high roof, just like at St. Mungo's. Harry caught site of two 9-Ring swords that had a brilliant red cloth attached to the hilts.

Harry put his satchel down and adjusted his house tie just as the door opened again. In walked Susan Bones, her blonde hair was plaited down her back like usual, a twinge of read on her cheeks also suggested the difficult climb it took for her to get to the classroom. Her baby blue eyes widen at the site of the room she had just walked into. She stopped and admired the elegant, large, yet bare room that was before her.

However, Ernie Macmillan did not see her stop, and walked right into Susan. Both of them toppled over, the stocky brown haired boy on top of his female housemate. Another one of the Hufflepuffs, one that had a notorious reputation of being a major flirt, Sarah Fawcett, flicked her straight black hair behind her shoulder before helping the two of them up. She spent extra time brushing off Ernie's shoulders. Susan continued to look around the room, as Ernie started to blush a deeper red then that of the cloth that was adjoined to the hilts of the 9-Ring swords. The curly head of Justin Finch-Fletchley poked past the doorway before his whole body made it in. He looked around and let out a low whistle.

"What is this place?" asked Susan as she looked at a pair of Katanas that were pegged to the posts.

"Defense Against the Dark Art's classroom," replied Hermione, light snores could be heard from Ron.

"Where's um…" asked Ernie trailing off.

"Sun Gao," replied Harry, went over to check out the exercise equipment, Justin following him there.

"Yea, Professor Sum Pao," continued Ernie, "does anyone know how good he is?"

"Trust me," replied Harry as he lifted a twenty five pound with his good hand off the rack, "he knows his stuff."

"Harry, are you not supposed to lift anything heavy," asked Hermione, her eyes not leaving the book.

"Just with the bad hand, Hermione," replied Harry as he started a curl.

The door opened again and in walked Neville, Dean, Corner and Boot. They were joking around, loudest were Michael and Dean, while Terry and Neville remind their usual passive selves. They stood in awe of the room for a few seconds, but not as long as the Hufflepuffs did.

"Is this everyone," asked Corner as he surveyed the room.

"Not quite," replied Padma Patil, who was a spitting image of her sister, though less into to designer fashion.

"Think we still need the Slytherin entourage," replied Lisa Turpin, she was not as seductive as Fawcett, though she did carry a certain geeky cuteness with her straight auburn hair, small glasses, light skin and the idea of less make up means more beauty, thought Harry.

"Those lot seem to always be late," replied Dean as he settled next to Ron who briefly woke up flustered and mumbled something about 'the spider's wanting me to sing karaoke', "Don't worry there, mate. I can grantee that no one wants to hear you sing karaoke."

"Okay…" replied Ron slowly as he fell backwards on to the pillows again.

Dean shook his head, "any way, what was I saying?"

"Sorry, wasn't paying attention," replied Ernie as he slapped away Sarah's hand for the umpteenth time.

"I just want to know why we needed to sign our names," asked Padma as she sat down near Hermione.

"Wasn't it for roll call," asked Justin as he was trying out the manual Stairmaster.

"No," replied Hermione as she leafed though the book, Padma reading over her shoulder.

"Merlin, Jus," exclaimed Susan, "Get off that thing before you hurt yourself."

"Aye, aye, Capt. Bones," replied Justin as he jumped off the Stairmaster.

"If it wasn't for roll, then what was it for," asked Neville.

Hermione sighed, "I can't tell for sure," was her reply as everyone looked at her with shocked expressions, "what? Don't expect me to know everything."

"But, you're," stumbled Terry, "Granger. You have a library for a brain."

Hermione glared daggers at Terry, whose complexion dropped to a twinge above parchment. Corner stepped in to help his friend.

"He meant it as a compliment, really," replied Michael smoothly, it took several seconds for Hermione to lessen her glare to a gaze.

"I don't know, because it could be anything," replied Hermione, "It all depends on the contract…"

"Contract," questioned Ernie, never a big fan to put his name to any document.

"I think it's something similar to the contract we signed…" Hermione stopped when she say that two people were not members of the D.A., and she rather not have her own curse backfire.

Neville started a soft chuckle that soon turned into laughter that was followed by the loud boom of Dean and Terry's slightly squeaky laugh. Everyone looked confused, especially when they noticed the red faced Michael Corner.

"Whatssmater?" asked Ron groggily. tried to say Dean but had to stop and take breath.

Neville finished the sentence for him, "Michael…_sneezed_ when he signed the contract and messed up his last name."

"Oh, dear," was the only other sound, which came from Hermione, that was heard among the laughter of the motley group.

"It's not funny," yelled Michael as he took calming breaths.

"No, it most definitely isn't," replied Hermione as several others started to sober up, "do you feel any…different?"

"Not at all," replied Michael as he checked his forehead for a temperature.

"Then you must not have made a big mistake," replied Hermione, getting back into her book, "if you did, you might have wound up severally wounded or worse."

'Or worse,' mouthed Corner as the door opened once more. This time the arrogant form of Malfoy stepped through, his crony Goyle by his side. Harry wondered how Goyle could get into the classes thus far, he was never that well off in school before. Malfoy didn't pause in appreciation of the room like everyone else, instead he twisted his face in disgust and went to stand in the farthest corner from everyone else. Goyle followed him like puppy dog and tried to stand menacing next Malfoy, his brows furrowed in what Harry assumed was his attempt at a disgusted look.

Blaise Zabini, the guy that had partnered up with Harry and Anthony earlier in Creation class, entered the room talking with Tracey Davis, the attractive girl from the same class. Both swiveled their heads around, taking in the look of the room.

"Zabini," drawled Malfoy, as if it were an order.

Blaise's eyes narrowed as he looked at Malfoy, "what is it Malfoy?"

"Just a warning," replied Malfoy, "don't mix with the mudbloods and muggle-lovers."

"You think that's supposed to scare me?" asked Zabini as he slowly started to walk over to Malfoy, Goyle started to raise his fist, "stay out of it Greg."

Goyle lowered his fist, though still tried to make himself look intimidating, "will you two cut this macho horse shite out," asked Tracey as she grabbed Blaise by arm, "you can settle this in a pissing match later, we have class."

"Act like Slytherins for once, have some decorum," sneered Malfoy.

"I have more class then the whole Malfoy family," replied Zabini.

The whole room went into silence, Malfoy's face went bright red as he clenched his fists till his knuckles were white. Both Zabini and Malfoy were starring daggers at each other, neither making a move.

"C'mon, we have class," replied Tracey, trying to tug on Zabini's shoulder, "as in actually class, I meant time set aside for learning…"

Out of no where, foot prints slowly appeared, then the form of Sun Gao faded into sight. The aged, bald, and long goateed Asian wizard's appearance shocked many of the students. Harry just looked on in silent amusement at the looks on everyone's face, specially Hermione's and Ron's.

"Wicked," breathed Ron wide eyed.

"That's…that's impossible," replied Hermione, "no…one can do…_that_."

"It is time for c'ass," replied Sun Gao as he adjusted the sleeves of his Shoalin Monk robes, where he kept his wand, "and you will find that this is much more then a c'ass."

Everyone walked over and sat down in the mass of pillows. Malfoy and Goyle sat on the far right, the Ravenclaws were a buffer between them and the Gryffindors, while the Hufflepuffs sat all the way over on the left. Blaise and Tracey sat between the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Ron looked at them uneasily, as though he expected poisonous snakes to pour out of their sleeves any second. Harry shook his head, _I need to get control of this_ he thought to himself as he watched Sun Gao begin to speak.

"You have all opted to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, I am Sun Gao," said the aged man that had trained Harry during the summer, "I will be referred to as Sir until I have given you permission other wise. This class will be different from the other that is set up for your year, as well as any other students taking Defense Against the Dark Arts. This room is your room, and only your room. You can not leave this pact…"

Hermione raised her hand for Sun Gao to call on her, "was that really the roll, sir, or a magical contract?"

"Both," replied Sun Gao sending the class into quite whispers, Hermione looked at Harry uneasily, "you will not be able to tell anyone that you have signed such a contract as well as telling anyone the specifics of what goes on in this class. I particularly like the last part I set into the parchment, who here is familiar with the Alliance Binding Clause?"

"The incantation is _Frater luxus badhanáti_ and it requires a parchment that had been wiped with a mineral water and blood combination from the caster," rattled off Padma as though she was reading from a book.

Hermione looked slightly fearful, but took over where Padma left off, "it has to be signed of free will, and the creator of the parchment is set as the patriarch…"

"Very good," replied Sun Gao, "if I believed in giving out points, you two would have received them…"

"What did you mean by patriarch, Hermione," asked Neville.

She looked at everyone fearfully, Harry could tell that she didn't want to answer.

"Well, what is it Miss. Know-It-All," drawled Malfoy, "or is this finally something you can't comprehend?"

"Watch it Malfoy," replied Ron.

"Or what Weasel?" sneered Malfoy, "going to sick Killer Potter on me? How many people have you murdered now, Scarhead?"

Ron's face looked like Harry felt. He was seething with anger, though he displayed it in a fashion less then Ron's bright red face. Looking down at his left hand as he flexed it, he replied to Malfoy, his voice even, making it more scary.

"Next time you have a rendezvous with your…_friend_ in an dark alley," said Harry a little softly so that everyone had to lean in to hear it, including Malfoy, "don't expect a letter from your father, Draco."

Malfoy's face paled, his eyes darting to the wooden door as if deciding whether to make an escape. He resigned to not trying, thinking that Sun Gao would stop him. Sun Gao looked at how everything unfolded, waiting patiently.

"I believe that answer that you are looking for is that I am the head of this new family," replied Sun Gao.

"Family," asked Susan Bones, her head tilted to the side.

"Yas, because to the clause in the contract you all just signed, you are all brothers and sisters," said Sun Gao calmly, his hands behind his back.

The class's opinion was unanimous, "**_WHAT!_**"

"I'm a brother to…_that_," replied Malfoy outraged as he pointed to Hermione.

"It's no picnic for us," replied Hermione as she pushed Ron down onto the pillows.

"How could you do this," asked Ernie as he looked at Sun Gao.

"This is so against the Law," said Susan.

"Does Dumbledore know about this," asked Padma.

"Is there any change to me," asked Terry as he searched his arms and checked his hair for any mutations.

"It's not that kind of spell," replied Michael as he rolled his eyes.

"Why didn't you ask for our permission," asked Zabini.

"Why didn't you just tell us," asked Dean.

"This is so against the Law," replied Susan Bones again.

"We know," exclaimed half of the class.

"Are you sure there are no…transformations," asked Terry as he tried to look behind his back.

"You are all fine," replied Sun Gao, he had waited for everyone to calm down, "and yes, it was slightly illegal, however you all signed of your own free will. Never full trust anything, that's the first lesson."

"So we shouldn't trust you, sir," asked Lisa Turpin.

Sun Gao smiled, "unfortunately, you can only trust me as I am the head of your family. You can also trust those in your family, though I think you should be referred to in different terms. Perhaps, Shyr Long, would fit you all better. Also, you will find that because of this…bond, you can not harm anyone in the room with intent. And if you do attack someone with the intent to cause harm or kill, it comes back to you, only worse. Also, if someone tells you something in confidence, you can not reveal that secret, even to other members in the group.

"This class will help you all with the upcoming war."

"What happens if we're not a part of the war," asked Malfoy, "sir."

"You are part of the war," replied Sun Gao, his ancient eyes boring into Malfoy's grey eyes, "and don't try to sway me any other way, I know some secrets," he turned to the rest of them, "that goes for all of you. Despite what you think, I chose you for this class for a distinct reason. Dumbledore has no jurisdiction over what and how I teach you all, for he can not find out unless he signs that parchment and joins us, and that is highly dubious.

"This class, you will learn and master fighting styles as well as spells that beyond Auror level. I expect you all to learn all of the curriculum for your next two years here in a month, so as to not hinder your training. After the winter holidays, you will learn Mo Fa Shoou Dau, were magic and martial arts will be combined. At the end of there year, your final exam will be a two weeks in the wilderness between Manchuria and Siberia. I will accompany you along on this.

"As I see the looked on you amazed faces," said Sun Gao, the only person not in shock was Harry, for he knew about the Neurloaders, "all of you will run in the morning, Mr. Potter will be the leader as he has been running for to longest out of all of you. Also, one independent study a day will be devoted to exercising in this room. And since this class is set up in the late afternoon, you will spend any extra time exercising here. After dinner, your curfew requires you back in your dorms by ten o'clock, that time, if not devoted to qudditch, will be spent here, learning more. Your only free days will be Friday night and Saturday, that is all. I expect hard work from all of you, for this will be the most fundamentally important class you take.

"No it's time for roll," said Sun Gao as he pulled the parchment from his sleeve, "I will not tolerate any thoughts of superiority because of blood, race or family. Therefore, you are all going to be given a family name from me that will not hold any place in society as your current surname does.

"Terry Boot," called out Sun Gao, Terry raised his hand, "between these walls you are Juan Shyr," terry nodded, still confused by all that was happening.

"Susan Bones," called out Sun Gao again, "you well be referred as Gong Prying.

"Michael…Learner?" asked Sun Gao.

"I…uh…sneezed when I signed, sir," replied Corner timidly, in slight fear of the aged wizard.

Sun Gao nodded in response, "your name is Shu. Tracey Davis?"

"Here, sir," replied the brunette that was sitting next to Zabini.

"You are now Yi," replied Sun Gao, "Sarah Fawcett you are Bawpei.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," the curly brown haired Justin raised his hand, "you are Hsin. Gregory Goyle, you are Tsong Jiau. Hermione Granger, you will be known in the room as Ta."

Ron snorted at Hermione's name, the bushy haired teen looked disappointed at not having as elaborated or name.

"Neville Longbottom," said Sun Gao, Neville timidly stuck his hand up, "you are Fei Ma. Ernie Macmillan, you are now Huan. Draco Malfoy…"

"The heir of the Malfoy lineage is present, _sir_," replied Malfoy with a sneer.

"You are now Shern," replied Sun Gao in an even voice, before moving on to the next name, "Padma Patil, you are now Tz Raan. Harry Potter."

"Present, sir," replied Harry with respect.

A smile tugged on the corners of his lips, "you are Chwen. Dean Thomas, you are Si Hsieh Wang. Lisa Turpin, your new name is Shing Gaan. Ronald Weasley, your new name is very much what you are, Hong Mu."

Most of the class started to laugh at Ron's name. The red headed teen just sighed and muttered something about 'I hope hong means hung'.

"And finally, Blaise Zabini," continued Sun Gao, "you will be known as Mong Shou. I hope you've all remembered each other's names, because you can not use anything else while in class. Now, you will see how you will learn."

Sun Gao removed a small box from his robe and enlarged a box. Setting it on the ground, Sun Gao waved his wand and the box opened and the Neurloaders, seventeen in all, floated out. Sun Gao grabbed one, just as he did when he told Harry about them.

"This is a Neurloader," said Sun Gao flatly.

"Those are illegal," replied Hermione as she looked at Susan who nodded along with her, "possession is a fifteen year sentence to Azk…"

"Ta, there is no Azkaban," replied Sun Gao, "and it is only illegal if someone from outside of the contract were to see it. They are not to leave this room. That is an order. No one will find out about them. They are only illegal because it would make learning to easy, and would make the school system obsolete."

Sun Gao then went on to explain all the aspect of the Neurloader, the dangers that was associated with it because it made you the user vulnerable to attack at the time. He told the class that no one would be able to use on with out his supervision. Sun Gao also said that they should bring in one of their class text books so that they could start on the memorization of their sixth and seventh years. The whole class was spent on telling them how everything was going to work.

"I expect you all out for run at four thirty a.m.," continued Sun Gao, "with Chwen leading you. After the run, a quick shower and then proceed to have breakfast. You shall do this everyday, Chwen I expect you not to go easy on them, and after they start to get better, you will all step it up. It is a free night tonight, do not expect another one in the middle of the week. I hope this year will be more profitable for you then the pure academic preparation for your N.E.W.T.s. Welcome to the Shyr Long Clan, I'll see you all tomorrow."

Sun Gao then placed an invisibility charm on himself with a hover charm on his feet to make it look like he disappeared into thin air. Harry had seen it many of times over the summer and Sun Gao planed to teach him how to. Most of his fellow students were too stunned to do anything. Malfoy was the first to leave. He got up in a big fuss, muttering obscenities under his breath as he stormed out of the room. Goyle followed him almost like an obedient guard dog, though before his bulky form crossed the door, he looked back at all of the others.

"Where do we go now," asked Zabini.

"Go have dinner," replied Ron, as he got up to make his way for the Great Hall.

Hermione pushed him back down onto the pillows, "that's not what he meant Ron."

"I guess it would have been better if I said: _What_ do we do now," elaborated Zabini.

"Did you really train with him during the summer, Harry," asked Neville.

"Yes, he is quite a good trainer," replied Harry, "I trust him wholeheartedly. He taught me that spell that saved our lives during the attack on the express."

"People died from that spell," replied Hermione.

"I know that, Hermione," replied Harry as he got up and rubbed his left bicep, "look, all of you, there is a war coming, and I rather, personally be prepared for it," he turned to look at his friends, "and I would like my friends to prepare for it as well, so I don't have to worry about them as much. We won't learn the Unforgivables, we will only learn honourable ways to defend ourselves."

"So, Sun Gao will teach us to kill," asked Sarah.

"No," replied Harry, "he will teach you to survive being attacked. He is vouched for not only by me, but also Professor Lupin."

"But Lupin seemed so…" began Terry.

"Nice," finished Padma, Ernie and Tracey.

_Moony doesn't have the best history_, thought Harry, "he is nice and a very good friend of mine. Sun Gao will help you all, he has helped me thus far. I really don't know what to say to convince you all. I'll be in the Entrance Hall at four thirty tomorrow, wear small yet loose fitting clothes, you will get hot out there. Also, where comfortable clothing during class and when you exercise, it will help."

Harry picked up his satchel and started to walk to the doorway. He turned back to see that no one was following him. Slightly disappointed, Harry was about to turn around. A flutter of cloth caught his eye. Right above the white slab of stone that had the Liondragon painted on it was a vertical banner with three big Chinese letters painted on it in red ink.

Harry walked out of the room, the corners of his lips the beginning of a smile. He started to walk down the stairs, the door to the room opened quickly and Ron and Hermione ran out. They spotted Harry and ran right to him.

"What was all that about, Harry," asked Hermione.

"Hermione, you wanted to string up a professor because he teaches us what needs to be taught," replied Harry, "I thought you were always one for knowledge."

"I am, Harry," replied Hermione hotly, "however, I prefer knowledge through legal means."

"Not everything we do is legal," replied Harry as he started going down the stairs.

"Harry, you've changed," said Hermione, "your not the same Harry we knew at your birthday party. You've killed for, Merlin's sake."

"I have only intentionally killed one person in my life!" yelled Harry as he waved his left hand in front of Hermione, "and that was to the bloke that did this to me. All the others…just happened. I morn every day for them and for myself. I hate what I've done, but I hate even more knowing that I will have to do more. It's hard to continue."

"Harry, mate, you have changed," said Ron.

"I've changed," replied Harry as he walked back up the stairs and pulled up Ron's right sleeve exposing odd shaped scars that lined the back of the red head's forearm, "your brothers were worried about you and asked me to find out what was wrong with you. They wanted to know why _you_ changed. The brain left the scars didn't it?"

Ron pulled down his long sleeves, glaring at Harry, "how did you know?"

"I saw them when you rolled up your sleeve to attack Smith," replied Harry, "you have three emotions now, depressed and withdrawn, hungry, and enraged."

"And how would you be, Harry," replied Ron as he rolled up his other sleeve to show similar scars, "if you had scars the went from the tips of you pinky fingers all the way to the base of your neck, all because of an accident you made. Your scars aren't from accidents, and now I'm disfigured because of one. How should I react?"

"Oh, Merlin. Ron, I didn't realize," replied Harry.

"No you didn't," replied Ron.

"CUT IT OUT, All OF YOU!" roared Neville, the rest of the class was all looking at the row between Harry, Ron and Hermione, "I refuse to have the animosity between all of you like that of the past. I'm sick and tired of everyone fighting. Merlin's sake, it's the first day! Now shake hands, hug, kiss, make-the-bloody-hell-up, because we have a bigger issue that needs to be taken care of."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked at each other sheepishly before muttering apologies and embracing. Neville sighed deeply and stumbled forward from Dean thumping him on the shoulder.

"Way to go, Neville," said the tall teen, Neville smiled back sheepishly.

"Thanks, it was nothing…really."

"Let's get down to business," replied Zabini, "we have a half hour till dinner, we need to keep up appearances."

"What about Malfoy and Goyle," asked Corner.

Sighing, Harry replied, "let them be for now, the class is not what they had expected."

"I don't think any of us were expecting that," replied Padma.

"Actually, I was," replied Harry, seeing the confused looks he continued, "During the summer, I trained with Sun Gao. He is neither a Death Eater, nor does anything suggest he is a fighter for Dumbledore's side."

"Is there a third side," asked Justin.

"Not that I know of," replied Hermione, "it's one or the other at the moment."

"Even so, what he is asking of us is illegal," replied Susan, "this whole _situation_ is illegal."

"And we all signed a contract into it freely," replied Ernie gloomily.

"Look, Sun Gao will teach us a lot," replied Harry, "and don't worry about the law, I have the Minister wrapped around my finger."

"How," asked Zabini.

"That's my secret," replied Harry, not wanting to elaborate, he cased his eyes to the side as a signal that told Ron and Hermione he would inform them later, "just know that none of us will get in trouble for anything in this class, I'll make sure of it."

"That's very Slytherin of you," replied Blaise, everyone else glared at him, "what it's not a bad thing."

"Says you," replied Ron.

"What it, Weasley," replied Tracey, "we're the ones that give Slytherin a good name."

"Why, because you haven't become Death Eaters yet?" asked Ron.

"Don't start now," said Neville in a hard voice.

"Fine," replied both the Slytherins and Ron.

"So is that it," asked Harry.

Everyone looked around the room, most nodding their heads, "what about Dumbledore…shouldn't we tell him," asked Justin.

"Go ahead and try," replied Hermione, "but I rather not see the extent that contract will go too to stop you from talking. There is definitely some stuff in there that he didn't tell us about."

Ron looked at his watch and groaned, "look, I'm all for discussion on this topic, but its almost time for dinner."

"We need to go," replied Ernie, "to…you know…keep up appearances."

Blaise glared at Ernie because the stocky, brown haired teen clearly stole his original idea.

"Before we go, don't forget about the run tomorrow," said Harry, "four thirty in the entrance hall."

"BLOODY HELL POTTER," roared Zabini from the back of the line of students that was making its fourth entire Hogwarts campus jog that morning, "WHAT THE… BLOODY HELL… IS WRONG… WITH YOU!"

"YOUR LUNGS SEEM FINE TO ME, ZABINI," shouted back Harry from the top of the run he had been leading.

At 4:30 a.m., almost all of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was waiting for Harry to lead them in a run. The only ones not present were Malfoy and Goyle, _no real loss there_, thought Harry. Most of his fellow peers were out of shape, even if they looked healthy. Well, not one.

"For how long do you normally go," asked Dean, who was right behind Harry.

"Ten metric miles," replied Harry, Dean just grinned and laughed.

"How many we got left," asked Dean, looking over his shoulders at the struggling crew.

The corners of Harry's lips curled upwards, "six more."

Dean laughed again, "you wanna race the last one?"

"Sure," replied Harry, "this jog is dead boring."

Dean laughed again as everyone behind them started to whine and complain. On the last metric mile, Harry and Dean both sprinted through out that final lap. Dean had beat Harry by several meters. Panting and congratulating each other, both waited for the other to show up some ten minutes later. Every collapsed onto the ground and sucked in the air hard.

Propping himself on his elbow, Blaise looked right at Harry, "you are the devil incarnate," before he slumped backwards and sucked air.

Harry and Dean both laughed, which soon got loader upon seeing the winded looks on everyone's face.

"Wait till tomorrow," said Harry as he and Dean walked to the giant oak doors, "when we do it all over again."

A giant moan from the assembled bodies was the last thing that Dean and Harry heard as the oaken doors closed. They both went upstairs to shower and get ready for the rest of the. Today was one of Harry's 'big' days because he had three classes, two of them N.E.W.T.s preparatory classes for Transfiguration and Charms. The other class was Intelligent and Sentient Beings.

McGonagall's and Flitwick's classes were nigh carbon copies because they both had similar speeches about how N.E.W.T.s were important and how the year would be academically rigorous despite the schedule. The only difference between them was the name of the class. For Harry, those two classes seemed utterly boring because of their banality. His excitement came when he, Hermione, Neville and Dean (his response for taking the class was 'hey, they'll allow me to draw in it') were walking to the classroom that was in the south tower.

Out side of the classroom stood Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott. Susan and Ernie were glaring at Harry, both were extremely tired and sore from the morning run. The others in the class were Padma Patil and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw, and the skinny and meek Theodore Nott that stood next to the bulky and square jawed Millicent Bulstrode. The class was similar to the others in only one respect thought Harry, _it was an odd mix of kids_.

The door to the classroom opened and a thin haired man that was tall and thin and had a ridiculously large Adams apple walked out in worn brown robes that had patches on the elbows. He was carrying a leather hand satchel that had papers stuffed in and hanging out. He could only move his eyes by turning his head in the direction he wanted to look, and every time he did that his Adams apple would sway back and forth.

"Alright, you lot all here," spoke the many really fast as he counted everyone, "okay, I'm Algernon Beamish, instructor of this course," he looked at his pocket watch, "oh, my, we're already late. Pack it up and follow me you lot."

Professor Beamish started to make his way down the tower, the students following him. He stopped every few seconds and checked his watch, muttering 'oh so late, so late. They're not going to like that.'

"Where are we going, sir," Hermione asked the question that was on everyone's mind, "and I'm sure they would understand if we're late."

"We're going into the Forbidden Forest," replied Professor Beamish as he pushed open the oaken doors, "and however spaced out wizard's might think of Centaurs, they do value punctuality, specially from outsiders, like ourselves."

The students stopped dead, Hermione paled to several shades of white at the prospect of confront the Centaurs again. Harry looked at the man that was Algernon Beamish and thought, _there is no way we are _all _coming back from the Forbidden Forest alive_.

**

* * *

****A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed that, I know I did when I wrote it. Just a few helpful notes. 

Harry's hand will hopefully be healed in a month.

"Invention is the mother of necessity." Is a quote from _Guns, Germs, and Steel_ by Jared Diamond. In fact, Chapter 10 for the book (Necessity's Mother) is what was taught in the first lessen for Creation.

Boothby is just a character that was added for extra flavour, she serves no purpose except to be a cranky old lady. I did it this way so that you can all have someone to love and hate before I work Snape back into the story. Snape will be there, don't worry.

Boothby did invent the Moontrimmer in 1901 and is still alive in the Harry Potter world (HP-Lexicon).

David Gudgeon would be better known as Davy Gudgeon, the kid who all most lost an eye when he tried to tag the trunk of the Whommping Willow. (Hence the white scar under his right eye.)

"He looked rather like an old lion. There were streaks of grey in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows; he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp." Is a direct quote from JKR's 6th book that was given to the public after they opened the 'do not disturb' door to find the secret.

I can't believe no one seemed to get the name: Anita Johnson.

Glover Hipworth did invent the Pepper-Up Potion (HP-Lexicon)

Just because Zabini and Malfoy hate each other, doesn't mean he is a good guy.

Everyone in the Defense Class has a certain purpose there and a certain reason for being there.

I will not tell you translation of the names Sun Gao gave them. That would wreck the story.

Shyr Long means Lion Dragon, in two words. Liondragons will play a major part. The letters on the banner at the end did say Lion Dragon Clan.

Sun Gao is a sneaky old man. He and Dumbledore are very similar, though different, it's hard to explain, but when you're in the middle of Sun Gao's manipulations, you start to see it all unravel.

Ron's scars have no magical properties, just emotional consequences.

Tensions are running high.

I stated it before, but the idea of the Neurloader _did_ come from _The Matrix_, however, I did ….tweak… the idea into the artifact that is now a Neurloader.

And they're off to see the Centaurs, the wonderful Centaurs of the Dark Forest.

From the last chapter:

The reason that no Unforgivable Curses were used was because they wanted to capture the Half-Blood Prince alive. Hard to do if you accidentally kill him because you say _Avada Kedavra_ to often.

I would like to thank **Shawnculli, prophet, .ok, Mosleyn001, Secret Keeper the Owl, Renzo, **and **Ansku** for reviewing. I love to hear feed back from you guys, even when it's criticism because it allows me to explain myself and this fic better. I hope you've all enjoyed the last chapter. And to those that read but don't review, thank you all for reading, I still have love for all of you. thumps chest with fist twice

forfie


	13. The Kiss

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter, the world of Harry Potter, nor the idea of Harry Potter. That all belong to Mrs. J.K. Rowling. I am but a pauper making no money on this quest of story telling.

This in the unbeta'd version

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By Forfie MacForfie

Chapter 13.) The Kiss

Standing in shock at what Professor Beamish had said, the students all looked at each other, the same look of fear in all their eyes. The thin man with his huge Adams apple was still walking toward the Forbidden Forest. He was half way there when he looked over his shoulder to realize that his students weren't following him. Turning around, Algernon Beamish took in the sight of his scared students and sighed.

"We're late," he replied in his fast pace voice, "and by putting it off longer, the Centaurs will be more upset. Some of the problems of last year have been assuaged by the Headmaster Dumbledore. He has negotiated all summer with the Centaurian Clan so that classes may go into the Forbidden Forest unmolested. I assure you, there is no immediate danger."

_No _immediate_ danger_ thought Harry and his school mates followed the professor, _not 'no danger', just no _immediate_ danger_. Harry flicked his wrist and his wand slid into his hand just as they entered the forest. The other students had the same idea and removed their wands from their pockets, robes and sleeves. Algernon turned around to face everyone; his thinning hair was being tussled by a light breeze.

"When we meet up with the delegates of the Centauric Clans, please stow your wands," he said as he lead the way through the forest.

In a single file, all the students followed their professor into the forest along a dirt path that seemed to be well trodden. Harry kept swiveling his head around in case there was anything that might jump out at the party. Hermione was sniveling lightly behind him, she wasn't the only one that was scared from the group, but she did have a reason to be afraid. She had lead Harry and Umbridge into the forest expecting the centaurs to help them with Umbridge. She had not known at the time that her actions were highly offensive.

_Hopefully, they won't remember us_ thought Harry as he whispered '_lumos_' to call forth an orb of light on the end of his wand. Harry took in the whole line of students; no one seemed to be calm. Either this was their first time into the forest or they had heard the horrible rumors that told of the place. Harry looked at the large oaken trees, mixed with small ones in between and thick undergrowth. For the first time, he could see why Hagrid loved this place so much. It was really beautiful when you looked past the acromantulas, giants, and thestrals.

The had stopped in a circular meadow, really just a whole in the forest that had a ground of lush grass and brightly lit from the sun's rays pouring though the opening in the canopy. The students wandered about the grassy knoll, the light hitting their face, causing them to smile after their trek through the dark forest. The trees began to rustle, and the sound of galloping could be heard.

The students gathered together behind Professor Beamish, Hermione turned to Harry, "do you think they'll remember us?"

"Yes," replied Harry as he saw a giant centaur, his four legged body was white with gray spots, his hair and beard were long and white, framing his aged face. He was followed by two others, one was Magorian and the other was gigantic sable steed that had an equally buff man that was same colour of his 'horse-half'.

Everyone put away their wands as they took in the presence of the three centaurs. They all gave off the presence of leadership, as well as the stand of a warrior. The black centaur sniffed the air and furrowed his brow a bit as he looked at the amassed students.

"You're late, Beamish," said the old centaur as he looked up to the sun.

"For that I am sorry, Anasazi, and I hope the other chiefs will be able to forgive me," replied Algernon as bowed his head forward.

"We forgive for minor obstructions," boomed the black centaur as he stared down Beamish, "but any disrespect shown to us will weigh heavily against you, Beamish."

"I agree with my brethren," replied Magorian, "and there are few among your number that has done us wrong. Your Headmaster said that this would be an opportunity for them to apologize."

Beamish paled slightly, "the Headmaster has not confided such a thing with me."

Magorian snorted be fore he turned his head to Harry and Hermione, "apparently he wanted the apologies to be genuine."

"That would be a first," muttered the white haired centaur named Anasazi.

Harry looked into Hermione's wide eyes, he nodded and stepped forward and looked into the eyes of the centaurs in turn. The rest of the class separated from Harry, leaving him stand there and Hermione a few steps behind him.

Harry thrust his hands into his pockets nervously, "err…Last year, me and Hermione thought that you would help us get away from an evil teacher we had. That was wrong of me and Hermione to think… you are your own. You choose to stay out of the world we have formed around ourselves…as humans…because we have no right to subjugate you to our rules. We are beasts…which is neither good or bad…it just is. I apologize for my actions, and that of Hermione, we will not interfere in your lives again."

"Satisfactory," said Magorian, "though the stars disagree with you. And the one that calls herself Hermione?"

"I'm present before you Chief Magorian," replied Hermione as she gave Harry an odd look.

He mouthed back 'I read the book', before he joined the rest of the students. His eyes looked into Magorian's hunter green eyes before moving to the one called Anasazi's silvery blue eyes. He tried to look in the black centaur's eyes, but found he couldn't last long in his gaze, so he took in all of the black centaur's appearance.

Scars covered his arms and chest, most notable were what looked like teeth marks. He obviously lived a more dangerous life then that of Anasazi or Magorian. _I wish the centaurs would interfere in human relations, _thought Harry, _I'm the big guy could give me a few pointers_. Hermione had finished her apology and returned to the group, her cheeks bright read.

Beamish turned to the students, "these will be your instructors for the day, please take good notes that we'll review next time in class."

"You will find the grass most welcoming," said Anasazi as he and the other centaurs lowered their legs to the ground, the students followed suit and sat on the ground.

"We are the three chiefs," said Magorian, "we are entitled to respect from our brethren. Humans should respect us as well."

"I am Anasazi, leader of the Cadorac Clan of the West Wood," said the silver haired and bearded centaur.

"And I am Magorian, leader of the Centaurian Clan of the Dark Forest," replied the brown haired young faced centaur.

"I'm Raraku, leader of the Kal'el Clan in the Grey Hills," replied the dark centaur.

"All of us share this forest and surrounding land as are homes, and have for centuries," said Anasazi, flicking his hair back.

"And as one of your number has stated, we serve no man," continued Magorian.

"We don't interfere in your trivial disturbances," boomed out Raraku.

"And we don't subjugate ourselves to the rule of your kind," continued Anasazi.

"We choose to be labeled as beasts," said Magorian, "and that is something you will never understand."

The class was really unsettled by how they were being spoken to. The Centaurs then outlined that they would not teach them anything of their ways, only knowledge of where they live. Magorian told the students of the main forest, where they were, and all the beauties it held. Specifically how very seldom it was disturbed by humans. Anasazi told the students of the Western Wood, which was several metric miles from where they were, and how it held a lot more common creatures, like bears, elk, and skunks, compared to the majority of magical creatures in the Dark Forest. Then it was Raraku's turn to tell the students of the Grey Hills, the land that was behind the forest, yet still apart of it.

"The hills are full of magical creatures," he told the class, "though I doubt you will find most of them in here. Cockatrice, chimaera, graphorn, acromantulas, and the occasional wandering vampire can be found in the Grey Hills."

"Chief Raraku," asked Ernie, "are those Vampire bites on your arms?"

Raraku laughed, "Yes, some if I remember correctly."

"Doesn't that make you a vampire," asked Neville.

Raraku looked at his colleagues and all three of them burst out laughing. Trying to calm them selves, Raraku turned back to the students.

"A vampire bite is harmless to everyone but a wizard," he said, "that is one of the reasons they are hated and feared the most by your kind."

"But…don't vampires drink…blood?" asked Hannah.

"Yes," replied Raraku, "but their curse can only infect another wizard. A vampire could drink from anything with blood running in its veins. But only a Wizard or Witch would become a vampire. I suggest that after today, you never try to find me, because you would be prime targets in the Grey Hills."

"Mars is bright," interrupted Anasazi, the other two centaurs looked into the sky that was still brightly lit without blinking or squinting.

"Alas, it is," replied Magorian, "I believe that you should be going Raraku."

"I was on my way," said the black centaur, "Magorian, a warning, a visitor is in your forest."

"How strong," asked Magorian.

Raraku took in a big sniff as he stood up, "faint, but ever present."

"I will look into it," replied Magorian, "be well, Mars is bright and Venus is flickering."

"Venus is all but out, I'm afraid," replied Raraku as he was trotting away, "Though Neptune is on a rise higher then Uranus."

With that, Raraku vanished from the clearing into the woods on his way home. Anasazi stood up next.

"I fear that Raraku's keen sense is right," replied the aged centaur, "and Neptune will rise as Mars strengthens. Good day, Magorian and humans."

"My colleagues have left," stated Magorian, "and I shall follow their leads, the Clans need tending."

"Thank you for your time Chief Magorian," said Beamish with a slight bow, "my class has profited from the experience in your presence."

"For once, humans took a roll similar to that of the centaurs," replied Magorian as he left the clearing.

All the students gathered together, talking in lower tones about their class. Harry approached Hermione before they followed Beamish out of the forest.

"What was all that about vampires," asked Harry.

Hermione looked behind them at the rest of the class, "I thought you read the book."

"I did," replied Harry, "and it said nothing about vampires and centaurs together."

"Centaurs are the natural…opponents of vampires," replied Hermione, "if one entered their Clan's area, they would kill it in the most gruesome of ways…and I think there might be one in the Forbidden Forest."

"Why do you say that," asked Harry.

"Raraku sensed him and warned Magorian," replied Hermione, her face paler, "Harry, the Forbidden Forest is even more dangerous now than ever before. There is a vampire here."

Ω∞†∞Ω

Friday morning meant the Harry had to lead his Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the ritual morning run. It was their third run and no one besides Dean was up to Harry's level yet. Draco and Goyle still had not shown and Harry was worried how Sun Gao would react, not so much for what he would say to those two, but for what he would say to him. After the run was finished, everyone showered and made their way to breakfast.

Harry was eating slowly and taking his time because he had an independent study next before Care of Magical Creatures as well as the need to write Griphook about taking on Shea Devlin Cripps and Graham Kelpurn. Harry had waited a week, just at Emmeline Vance had recommended to him, before contacting Griphook about the two. The hard part was describing to Griphook why he wanted them.

Harry had visited Fred and George several other times during the summer so that he could hear out the specifics of their idea. For everything to work, in the corporate business they wanted him to set up, he would need an overall accountant and lawyer for the 'firm'. That is where Cripps and Kelpurn fit in, and the companies that Harry backed would run under his name, ownership title, and be supported by him. The heads of the individual business would make up a council that dealt with publications, sales, bringing in new business, security measures (which would be funded by Harry), etc. etc. etc.

Harry thought it was a good idea for something to do incase the Under 17 League didn't work out. Parchment on the table, quill in hand, open ink blot next to his pumpkin juice and a fork full of egg waiting to enter his mouth. That was how Hermione, Ron and Neville found him when they sat down at the table for breakfast.

Ron eased into his seat gingerly and looked at Harry, "mate, do you think that we can get a bit of a break?"

"We have Defense today," said Harry as he was writing on his paper, "and running is good for you."

Ron just mumbled and started to pile his plate high with food and adjusted his long sleeve shirt. Hermione had a book open that was filled with numbers and equations that Harry assumed was for Arithmancy. Neville was talking with Dean and Seamus, the only other two that decided to stay in Hagrid's class, as Harry was writing on the parchment.

"Who are you writing to, Harry?" asked Hermione, her eyes on her book.

"My bank advisor, Griphook," replied Harry nonchalantly.

Hermione picked her eyes off her book from the page and looked at Harry, "your bank advisor is a goblin," she asked in a curious manner.

Not looking up from his letter, Harry answered, "yup, his names Griphook. He's a nice bloke, very sly and smart as the devil, but a nice a bloke."

"Harry, most wizards don't have goblins for bank advisors," said Ron just as he stuffed muffin in his mouth, "iff noff c'mon"

"Ron," said Hermione, "what Harry does with his money is his choice. I think it's quite a good thing, bridging the gap between both of our races. And considering that we are dependent on each other also makes it a wise move. Oh, don't talk with your mouth full."

Ron swallowed the remainder of his muffin, "I was just saying that it's not common, not that I don't agree."

"That's not what…" started Hermione; Harry sensed that a bickering match would be starting soon, so he felt the need to interrupt them.

Unfortunately, Seamus beat him to it, "will you two love birds stop quarreling. Merlin's sake, me mam an' da don't bicker as much as you."

"We're not love birds," said Ron and Hermione together.

"More like brother and sister," muttered Harry under his breath.

Ron and Hermione both blanched at him while Dean laughed and Neville quietly said, "aren't we all."

Parvati sat next down next to Harry, "I'd rather not think of that," she said and leaned into Harry, who for his best part tried to ignore her, "because I rather not think about incestuous fantasies."

Hermione snorted as Harry turned to look at Parvati with his eyebrow raised, "are you trying to say, Parvati, that you fancy me?"

Hermione snorted again as she looked back into her book. Lavender joined the table and sat next to Neville as she eyed her best friend making a move on Harry Potter. Parvati leaned in towards Harry more, her right hand playing with his shoulder, as she whispered in his ear.

"Not fancy, luv," she purred and then said the next word in a way that made Harry's knees go weak, "fantasize…"

Harry didn't know whether to ignore the strong 'come on' by his house mate, so taking the better part of action, he chose to surprise her. That was one of the things that Jenn had taught him, always do the opposite of what you want to because that is normally what the girl wants. And doesn't expect.

Harry gently grabbed the back of Parvati's head, his fingers going into her thick, long hair as he leaned forward, his other hand on her cheek. Leaning forward, he gently caressed her cheek with his thumb in a small circle before pressing his lips against hers. Leaning forward even more so that Parvati had to bend back a little, Harry deepened the kiss by putting more pressure on it and lightly slide his tongue across her lips, tasting her lip gloss. Leaning back into their regular position, Harry gave Parvati a quick nip on her bottom lip before turning back to his letter.

"Woah…" was Parvati's only comment as Harry was writing to Griphook, the talking in Hall had gotten louder after the kiss he had given Parvati. There were many catcalls, applause and some rude remarks that were thrown his way. Harry looked up to see the shocked faces of his friends, Parvati was completely silent and holding her bottom lip with the tips of her fingers in complete awe.

Harry then instinctively cast his eyes to the Ravenclaw table, where he saw Cho wide eyed, though not turning away from his sight. Harry looked down and started to write more. After a short while, he had finished his letter, just as Hedwig flew in and landed near his pumpkin juice and ink blot.

Harry petted her, "how do you do that," he asked, Hedwig just cocked her head to the side and nipped his fingers affectionately. "You're a very smart girl," he said, Hedwig puffed out her chest in pride before she went back down and nibbled some of Harry's bacon. "This is for Griphook, girl. I hope you have a safe journey," he said as he was tying the parchment to her leg. Hedwig looked up into Harry's eyes and nipped his finger one last time before flying off to deliver the letter to Griphook.

"Where did you learn to do that," asked Hermione.

"Well, I first learned how to tie a letter to Hedwig's leg when I was eleven…" replied Harry.

"Not that Harry," said Hermione as she rolled her eyes, "I meant how you…_kissed_ Parvati."

Harry looked back at Parvati how had not moved from he spot, her hand still on her bottom lip, "you alright there?"

"Huh…what…sorry, must of have…" said Parvati in a slight daze, "that was just…wow. I guess they were wrong, you _are _a good kisser. What am I talking about, that great. Wow. Am I really talking to myself?"

"Sorry, Parvati," replied Harry, "but you are, maybe I should give a warning next time."

"Just as long as there _is_ a next time," said Parvati.

"Parvati, I'm sorry, I think I've given you the wrong impression," said Harry, "I like you, but I'm not really looking for a girlfriend. I'm sorry."

"I understand," replied the Indian girl, "I was playing with fire, tempting the beast and all that kind of stuff."

"Oh, you can still 'tempt the beast'" replied Harry, "just beware of it's bite."

"Okay, luv," replied Parvati as she looked at her watch, "Jeez, how long was I out for, breakfast is almost over," with that she started to pile some fruit onto her plate and Harry turned back to Hermione.

"I learned it over the summer," he said as he started to eat from his plate.

"Some teacher," replied Ron.

"I could help you out if you want," replied Harry.

"No thanks, mate," replied Ron, "I think I can fend for myself."

"Who did 'teach' you," asked Hermione.

"A girl I met when I was on vacation," replied Harry, "why do you care so much, Hermione?"

"It's just that you were…" she said, leaving the sentence hanging.

"So what," he asked.

"_Inept_ when is came to girls," replied Hermione, "and now your some kind of modern day Casanova."

"Who," asked Harry.

"Casanova was born in 1725 and is know for being a soldier, spy, diplomat, writer and adventurer. He his most notable for his autobiography where he talks in intimate detail about his 'conquest' of 122 women," replied Hermione automatic.

"How do you know this," asked Ron with a perplexed look on his face.

"I…read his autobiography," replied Hermione, her cheeks very red from the blush on her face.

"You read a book by a man that talked about the 122 girls he shagged," asked Ron.

"I didn't know he was going to go into the overly _lewd_ details of all his encounters," replied Hermione, "but yes, I did read his book."

"Is there nothing you won't read," asked Ron.

"I won't read those garish comic books of yours," replied Hermione.

"Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle is not a 'garish' comic book," replied Ron hotly, "it's illustrated literature!"

"Guys, please, not now," replied Harry, "and Hermione, I can grantee that I have not set out for a 'conquest' of 122 women, nor will I even try to."

"Have you," asked Hermione, "you know…"

"I refuse to answer that, Hermione," replied Harry, "a gentleman never tells, and you should be ashamed to ask me such a thing."

"I was just seeing _if _you would tell," replied Hermione, "I wanted make sure that you were…_proper_ about it."

"Proper or not," replied Ron, "I want details later."

"Details of what exactly, Mr. Weasley," asked the stern voice of their head of house, Professor McGonagall, "please don't answer that, I don't like having to take points away from my own house, especially in the first week, but you know I will."

"Sorry, Professor," replied the teens.

"The Headmaster would like to see you, Mr. Potter," continued McGonagall, he lips very thin, "to discuss your…_antics_ today thus far. I believe you have an independent study next period, which will be fine. Also, the teachers all agreed that for your disturbance this morning, you should serve a detention tomorrow night. It will start at seven in your Defense Against the Dark Arts room with Sun Gao. Don't be late."

With a flourish, McGonagall left the Great Hall and Harry looked up to the staff table to see the Headmaster's twinkling blue eyes. _The detention won't be a problem_, thought Harry, _but Sun Gao is never easy_. He started to pack up his ink blot, quill and extra parchment, he didn't want to be late for his meeting with Dumbledore and breakfast had just ended.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Harry was waiting for Dumbledore in his office. He had let himself in, remembering the password the old man used on Monday. The room was the same as always, Fawkes in the corner, bookshelf to the side of the desk, portraits that pretended to be asleep and the sword of Gryffindor glittered from its mount on the wall. Harry had to rack his brain for a few minutes for the memories of the Chamber of Secrets. It seemed to have been such a long time ago, some of the details had escaped his mind (not the major ones like Tom Riddle and a Basilisk, but little ones like the hundreds of animal skeletons).

"I still find the Sword of Gryffindor an a very amazing sight to behold," replied Dumbledore from the doorway, "did you know that no one besides you, Harry, and Ms. Weasley have ever been in the Chamber of Secrets to date?"

"Err…no I didn't, sir," replied Harry, the moment of nostalgia lost.

"Forgive me for intruding on your thoughts," said Dumbledore as he sat behind his desk, "would you care for a lemon drop? I find an after breakfast sweet to be a nice pick me up for the commencing day. I daresay that if you were to continue the antics you pulled during breakfast today continue, you might what to have some sweet flavoured breath."

"No thank you, sir," replied Harry, "is that what you called me here for, a slap on the wrist for a kiss?"

"Not entirely, no," replied Dumbledore as he popped a lemon drop into his mouth, "but I do want to speak to you on the matter."

"Sir, that's a part of my life that I feel you shouldn't step in on," replied Harry, "I will take your advice, and I respect you dearly, please don't get me wrong…its just, that I feel that a kiss shouldn't be followed by an inquiry of the head of the school."

"You are correct, Harry," replied Dumbledore, "however, I know that there is no amorous feelings between you and Ms. Patil, and kiss of that magnitude should not be used lightly and fancy free. Also, if Ms. Patil were to confront a teacher about your forward motion, you would have been reprimanded for sexual harassment."

"So you think I'm some kind of pervert, sir," asked Harry in non-belief.

"That's not what I was saying, Harry," replied Dumbledore, "just be careful with the person you kiss in public again, it may hurt others as well."

"Point taken, sir," replied Harry.

"I hope so," said the Headmaster, "I've also noticed that you and a number of the other students were behaving oddly for the past week. A good part of them are not in the D.A. while the others are. Is there anything you care to tell me?"

"None that I know of," replied Harry automatically, the words coming forth as if from another mouth.

Dumbledore nodded resolutely before changing subjects, "speaking of the D.A., have you made any progress with a meeting location or the list of students I gave you?"

"I can't think of anyplace," replied Harry frankly, "and I've looked at the Marauders' Map for two days thus far. No where seems to offer a secret place that is accessible and well protected from intrusion from inside the castle."

Dumbledore listened earnestly and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his long crooked nose, "alas, I will not break my vow to my fellow Professors and help you out on your selection, Harry. For that, I apologize."

"I understand what vows mean, sir," replied Harry as he rubbed his biceps faintly.

Dumbledore raised his white eye brow ever so slightly, a ray of light hitting the silver pummel of the Sword of Gryffindor, and said, "it is a wonderful treasure to have."

"What does Gryffindor's Sword have to do with anything," asked Harry entirely confused at his Headmaster's remark.

Tapping his long crooked nose, Dumbledore replied, "you'll know when the nose knows."

Harry stared into his headmasters eyes in complete confusion. An image of Dumbledore's nose, then the Sword of Gryffindor and finally the Chamber of Secrets rushed through his head. Harry dropped his eyes, he had forgotten that Dumbledore was a master and controlled Legilimens. _I need to gain control of my ability_, thought Harry, reminding himself resolutely to sit down tonight and read _Les Arts Magiques Mentaux_. _And what does the Chamber of Secrets have to do with anything?_

"Harry, did you perhaps look at the list I gave you," asked Dumbledore.

"Huh…" replied Harry, shaking his head from the 'to do list' that was forming in his head, "oh, yea. I read that list and laughed. Do you seriously want me to bring in Malfoy and Goyle? Malfoy and I have hated each other since he offered me his hand to shake. And Goyle…I mean, Goyle…I'm surprised he made it into as many classes as he did. I never would have thought him to be the brainy one between him and Crabbe. I have no problem with Edgecombe, I think she's learned her lesson, and I'll offer for her to come back. The choice is hers. And as for Turpin, Davis, Fawcett and Zabini, they seem like good candidates to me, though I practically just met them both on Tuesday."

"How is that, Harry," asked Dumbledore, "they have been in your class for the past five years."

"They were quiet and under the radar," replied Harry, "but I don't know their personal beliefs, so that will be hard to say."

"Do you know all the personally beliefs of those in the D.A.," asked the old man.

"I like to think I do," replied Harry.

Dumbledore shook his head in light motions, "is there no chance for Draco and Gregory to make it into the D.A."

"None," replied Harry, "they would be more of a hindrance then anything else."

"Just think about, Harry," said Dumbledore as he patted the desk with one hand, "I urge you, please, just think it over."

Harry bit his tongue to stop from replying heatedly, "is that all, sir?"

"Is there anything you would like to ask me, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Anything from Voldemort," asked Harry right away.

"We believe that he has moved the stronghold of his forces from Norway, where he was based this summer, to Russia, parts unknown," replied the Headmaster, "we only have a few members of the Order in Russia right now, and it being a gigantic area of land, it is hard to pinpoint a person, let alone the collective forces of Voldemort."

"How is Remus," asked Harry at the mention of Russia.

"Quite well, though he is having some trouble talking to the local werewolves, it seems most people are on edge there," replied the Headmaster.

"Because of Voldemort," asked Harry.

"In part," replied Dumbledore, "but the vampires have been showing some unrest as of late."

"Vampires," asked Harry, "are they part of Voldemort's forces?"

"Not that we know of," replied Dumbledore, "hopefully they will do as they have always done during wizarding conflicts and remain neutral."

"Neutral," questioned Harry again, "Chief Raraku painted the picture that vampires were anything but neutral."

"So you've had your first class of Intelligent and Sentient Beings," asked Dumbledore, Harry nodded, "I hope you enjoyed it. Chief Raraku has a…bias when referring to vampires. Vampires are the natural enemies of centaurs, who see it upon themselves to oppose them at all turns. Also, Raraku's father, Pau, was killed by a vampire five years ago, that is why he is such a young leader."

"He said something about a vampire being in the Forbidden Forest," said Harry.

"That is very disenfranchising," replied Dumbledore, "I will have to speak with Magorian."

"We're that much in danger," asked Harry.

"Oh, I highly doubt so," replied Dumbledore, "vampires will not normally attack unless threatened, they are not blood thirsty by nature. That is quite ironic now that I think of it. They are infected, Harry, with a cursed disease that makes them live longer, allergic to light, allergic to garlic, no longer hunger for regular food and drink, and requiring bloody only once a month, which can be quenched by animal blood. Vampires will drink from humans, yes, but it is a hard fact that most people refuse to acknowledge, but we ourselves are animals. Brain size, technological advances, and the such mean nothing to the ways of the world. That is what defines the beliefs of the centaurs' dislike for most humans, because we as a collective people tend to forget that we are held to the same rules of evolution and natural selection just like every other animal. We are all, essentially, equal.

"A vampire will attack a human, yes, but it will do so if there is no other animal around that could satiate is thirst, and even then, it would do so hesitantly. We humans tend to fear what we can not understand, it is a common ailment of minds."

Harry's head was spinning. _Does everyone expect me to understand all of this now because I'm sixteen?_ He questioned himself. He looked at his watch and nearly jumped, he was going to be late for his lesson with Hagrid.

"Sir, I have to go to class," replied Harry.

"Understandable," replied the old man, the corners of his lips curving upwards, "I hope you have a pleasant time in Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid will have a grand surprise for you."

Harry got up and rushed down the halls. He figured it was better to not have his book for class then to be extremely late and have his book. He was running through the lawn to make it to class on time, his satchel filled with parchment, his quills and ink blot hitting his leg beside him as he ran. He stopped at Hagrid's hut, just behind Seamus and Dean. _Thank Merlin, only one minute late_.

"Dere yeh are Harry," said the big form of Hagrid, "Al'ight class, I have ah treat fer you 'll ter day. Let meh int'oduce you 'll to the first creature of de school year, the Demiguise."

Hagrid lead them to a paddock that was completely empty. The half-giant then scratched behind his head in bewilderment.

"Err…Hagrid," said Seamus, as the other kids began to snicker, "I don't see no Demiguise."

"Well o' course not," replied Hagrid, "they're f'ighten of all the new faces so they're invisible."

The students started to snicker even more at Hagrid's proclamation, Harry felt slightly bad, but didn't know how to stick up for his friend.

"Dere's one," replied Hagrid as he pointed to an indentation that was on the dirt ground, "their hair is used for making invisibility cloaks. This is the firs' time we had them at 'ogwarts, they normally from the Far East. Take out yer books and turn tah page fi'ty-two."

_This is going to be a long day_, thought Harry as he looked on with Seamus.

Ω∞†∞Ω

The day had just kept getting longer and longer. Not only had Hagrid held Harry back a few minutes to talk to him about Sirius, but also asked when Harry was going to visit him. Harry promised to visit next week because he was very pressed for time as it was. When he got back to the castle, he had to work on an essay for Charms and Transfiguration. Once those were completed, he went to work out for a good hour before lunch. At lunch, Katie had reminded him that he had to go to tryouts the following day, which also reminded him that he had to write to Tony Raven about his injury. To make maters even worse, a brown barn owl that belong to the school flew in with a not to him that read:

I need to talk with you. Owlery at 9. Please.

Cho

Harry didn't expect it to get any better when he walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He was slightly surprised that Sun Gao didn't ask him about the morning runs or Malfoy's and Goyle's absences from them. Instead all they did for the class and the independent period afterward before dinner was use the Neurloaders to upload two books worth of knowledge into their brains.

Sun Gao had to give specific details of how the Neurloader worked again before he made everyone, even Malfoy, sit on the bamboo floor, Harry the only one sitting in a full lotus position. Harry had neurloaded, a term he coined to make talking about using a Neurloader easier, the only two books he had in his satchel, his Charms and Transfiguration texts. The information flashed before Harry's eyes, the words from the text seeping into his brain as well as the knowledge to perform all the spells. As this was happening to Harry, his best friends, Ron and Hermione, as well as the rest of the class were experiencing how a Neurloader worked for the first time.

Two hours went by in silence. Harry was silent because he didn't feel the need to talk, his peers were in silent awe, and Sun Gao was in his normal silent contemplation. Class had ended just as it had started, Malfoy stormed out of the room, Goyle in his wake, while the rest of the class slowly left for dinner, their heads a little more full of knowledge. Slowly winding their way down the corridors, Hermione broke the silence.

"Is it like that every time, Harry?"

"It gets easier," replied Harry, "but just because you have the knowledge, doesn't mean you have it perfected. When I learnt French, Sun Gao had to practice with me for hours, as well as the several martial arts I know."

The class stopped and looked at Harry in awe, "you know _several _martial arts," asked Ernie.

"Yes," replied Harry, "over the summer I learnt Karate, Aikido, Hoppkido, Judo, Sambo, Muay Thai, Bando, and Ishin-Ryu."

"Woah," was the collect gasp the students.

"Neurloading the information doesn't mean your fluent in body movements," continued Harry, "practicing is a key part of it, to make sure that everything has a flow to it. That also will help with languages you may learn."

"You said you know French," asked Tracey Davis skeptically.

"Yes, I learnt it over the summer and refined my knowledge for a few weeks," replied Harry in the Romantic tongue.

"What level are you," asked Hermione.

"Level?"

"It's a muggle grading system term," replied Justin.

"I guess I'm at a 7th year level," replied Harry thinking that muggle schools were similar to that of Hogwarts, not having gone to one since his was 10.

Hermione didn't correct him, but was silent as most people couldn't believe this, even having just Neurloaded two books themselves. Hermione then asked if the same would happen to them.

"I expect yes," replied Harry, "all of you have to learn how to protect yourselves."

"It doesn't seem to fit…" began Hermione, only to be interrupted by Zabini.

"Keep quite, everyone," said the Slytherin blonde, "we're nearing the Great Hall, and we need to keep up appearances."

"What is it with you tell us that we have to keep up appearances," asked Ron, miffed at being given orders by a Slytherin.

"Look, Weasley, if we act any differently around each other, as we are doing right now, then someone will notice and start asking questions."

"We've already been noticed," replied Harry.

The Slytherins looked at Harry skeptically, "and how would you notice?"

"Dumbledore asked me," replied Harry calmly, "if I knew why several of us were not behaving as our normal selves."

"Did you deny it," asked Davis.

"Did you look into his eyes," asked Zabini and Corner.

"Yes, I denied it," replied Harry, "and how do you both know that Dumbledore is a master Legilimens?"

"Dumbledore's a what," asked Justin and Fawcett.

"A Legilimens," asked Ron and Ernie.

"A _master _Legilimens," asked Hermione and Padma.

"What's it to you, Potter," asked Zabini, "what my head of house tells me is of no concern to you."

"Snape told you," asked Ron.

"Ron, no matter what you think, Snape is _not_ a Death Eater," replied Hermione.

Blaise and Tracey snorted at Hermione's comment while the others looked quite terrified at the notion of Snape being a Death Eater.

"Look, we're late for dinner," said Tracey, "let's just go in, yea?"

They separated into their different houses and entered the Great Hall. Dinner was in full swing, chatting and eating were about in all the tables, even some friendly banter at the head table between some of the teachers, especially a rousing discussion between Professor Flitwick and Professor Vector about the benefits of having an understanding of numerology combined with an equal knowledge of charm work. Really, there were only two staff members that abstained from conversation, Snape as usual, because he felt that no one, save the Headmaster, were equal or better in his area of expertise, and would not waste an exchange of words for any trivial means. And the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who watched the late comers of this evenings dinner with his keen twinkling eyes.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Harry walked into the school's Owlery at nine o'clock sharp. Pushing the oaken door open into the cold and drafty circular room that was opened to the world by the glasses windows, Harry saw the long, raven haired Asian beauty that was Cho Chang standing of to the corner of the straw and owl dropping laden floor. Owls above them both, sleeping and clinging to rafters that extended to the top of the tower. Even among all the animal droppings, straw and the permeated smell of owls, Cho still had a beauty to her, Harry admitted it. However, the flutter in his stomach that was present when he tried to ask her out in his forth year, as well as his fifth year, was not there any longer. Perhaps that was taken away by Jenn, or lost to time, or forgotten because he had killed. In truth, he didn't know, and the hard part was going to be telling Cho that he didn't have a crush on her any longer.

"Hi," replied Cho timidly.

"Hullo, Cho," replied Harry, not really knowing what he should say or do; should he get it over with and tell her and leave? _No that's too cruel_, thought Harry, _perhaps I should ease it to her and still offer the shoulder to cry on_…

"How are you," she asked, biting her lower lip cutely.

"I'm okay," he replied instinctively flexing his left hand, "little banged up but not worse for the wear."

"That happened at the attack on the Express, right," she asked as she slowly approached him, her hand out reached, "may I see, please?"

Harry smiled slightly and offered his left hand to her, she took it in her hand and traced the black cords with her fingers gently. She was biting her bottom lip as she then gentle traced the thick line that could be seen through the blue anti- viral and bacterial wrap that stretched from between Harry's middle and ring finger down to his wrist, right to his brown leather cuff that had the symbol Akoben inscribed on it that was a gift from Kingsley.

"How are you, Cho," asked Harry softly, though not with as much emotion the Cho had displayed to Harry.

"I'm alright, I guess," she replied earnestly, "I've had a while to think about the last two years."

"That's good," replied Harry.

"I heard that you can't play qudditch," replied Cho, a sad, pitying look in her eyes.

"I can't for a month," replied Harry as he slowly took his hand away, "I also know that you didn't ask me up here to talk qudditch, Cho."

The defeated looking Asian girl turned away from Harry, light sobs could be heard as she replied, "you're right, Harry."

"Would you care to tell me," asked Harry.

"Do you love her," she asked, _it has to be about the kiss_, thought Harry.

"No," he replied instantly, "nor am I dating her, or Hermione for that fact, just for your knowledge, and I don't plan to either. It was just a kiss that meant nothing."

Cho smiled slightly until she processed the last part Harry had said, "it didn't look like nothing."

"Cho, I am…not looking for a long term relationship," replied Harry, trying to pick out his words carefully, "I recently lost someone close to me and…I am a jumble of emotions…I hope you can identify with me on that…I …I realize that I'm not the safest person to be around, nor am I the best in certain aspects of romantic life, but I have had some help with that…I feel that I don't have the…time…for a girlfriend, or for that fact…love in general, I'm sorry."

"You really mean this," asked Cho, her eyes watering, she wasn't the same hose pipe she was last year, but she still had a copious amount of emotions.

"I'm sorry," replied Harry, "but I can't be there for you as a boyfriend. But I can still be there as a close friend, a shoulder to cry on, that is the least I can offer you for having to put it so bluntly. I am truly sorry, Cho."

Cho leaned forward and enveloped Harry in a hug, her head resting on his shoulder as she cried. Cried for Cedric, cried for her miss chance of romance with Harry, cried for what had happened to Harry, and cried just for the sake of crying, for the sake of release. Harry, for his best part, stood there, letting her cry out, as he stroked her hair and held the small of her back. Another action he learned that girls liked from Jenn, especially when they cried.

After awhile, Cho's dark brown eyes looked up into Harry's as she whispered a 'thank you'. She stood up and straightened her robes and whipped the remnants of a tear from her eye.

"Are you okay," asked Harry.

"Yes, thank you," replied Cho, a smile crept onto her face, "does this still mean that I'm in the D.A.?"

"Of course," replied Harry, "can you do me a favour, though."

"Depends on what it is," said Cho.

"Can you pass the idea of rejoining the D.A. to Marietta," said Harry.

Cho was shocked that Harry would ask such a thing. Marietta was her best friend, had betrayed the D.A. to Umbridge and overall, was not the best spell caster in the school.

"I'd like to give her a second chance," replied Harry.

"Did you talk this over with…Ron and Hermione," asked Cho, still put off.

"No," replied Harry, "Dumbledore asked me to, and I want to see if she still wanted to join up."

"I'll ask her," replied Cho, "but she will be turned away from the idea if people started to pick on her."

"Don't worry about that," replied Harry, "there will be two others that might be picked on more then her."

"Who," asked Cho.

"Now that would be spilling a secret," replied Harry.

"Speaking of secrets, were are we going to be meeting now that the Room of Requirement is no long of use," said Cho, Harry looked at her questionably, "Dumbledore made the announcement on the first welcoming feast, and," she pointed to the badge on her chest, "since I _am_ the Head Girl, I think I would know as well."

"Sorry I didn't notice," replied Harry as he opened the door of the Owlery for them both to walk out, "congrats."

"Thank you," replied Cho as she walked through the doorway, "and you're avoiding my question."

"That's because I don't have an answer," replied Harry as the door closed behind them. The two bid farewell to each other and made their way to separate common rooms. Harry started to read the first few chapters of _Les Arts Magiques Mentaux_ which strictly talked about the pedigree of the writer and the history of Legilimency and Occlumency. Harry soon drifted off to sleep, he had an early morning the next day.

Ω∞†∞Ω

"Up in the air you, lot," ordered Katie Bell to the three people that were trying out for a chaser position, the only one Harry knew was Ginny Weasley and she was sure to make the team, these Saturday morning shot into the air.

Ron was circling the goalposts, his confidence way up from last season because not only was he a major part in the winning of the Qudditch Trophy, but also just from having experience of game time. Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper had both lifted weights over the summer Harry noted by the powerful swings they were hitting the bludger with. Power was a good thing for a beater position, however their lack of accuracy degraded the affect. _They would have to work on that_, thought Harry who turned to look at the only candidate to try out for the seeker position.

Euan Abercrombie was a second year that had believed in the smear campaign against Harry that the _Daily Prophet _had put out, albeit leaned upon heavily by the Ministry. He was short, thin, mousy brown hair, brown eyes and rode a Comet 260, the same broom as Cho and Tonks. Harry hadn't brought out his broom, obeying doctor's orders. All he brought out were a bag of golf balls, just as Oliver Wood had when he was being trained.

"Do you know the rules of the game," asked Harry as he twirled two golf balls around in his right hand.

Abercrombie nodded, his eyes in awe as he looked upon the form of Harry dressed in his muggle blue jeans and black shirt. Obviously, the kid was still swallowing all the words the _Daily Prophet _spewed out, whether they were false beliefs or not, Harry didn't care to answer at the moment.

"I'm not going to release the snitch today, it would be too much of an effort to retrieve it when we're done. However, I will practice with you like I was taught by my former captain, Oliver Wood. These are golf balls, I'm going to throw them in the air, and I want you to catch them, got it?" asked Harry.

Euan nodded vigorously again.

"Euan, you can get in the air now," said Harry.

"Oh, right…sorry," replied the timid second year as he pushed off the ground into the air.

Harry threw the golf balls into the air one at a time. Some he lobbed, others sped straight and fast, and occasionally he kicked a few, just for variety. Abercrombie was good, he conceded, of the twenty golf balls Harry first threw, the kid only missed five. Granted he wasn't as good as Harry was, _but I can change that_, thought the raven haired, bespectacled teen. After the fourth set, throwing the twenty balls four times, Harry saw that Abercrombie was beginning to tire.

"Alright, Abercrombie, you're done," shouted Harry into the air.

Euan landed in the pitch a little uncoordinatedly, _another thing I'll have to work with him on_, thought Harry. The others had ended a few minutes earlier, and the rest of the team was waiting for Harry to discuss this year's roster. Euan went into the locker room for a shower and change while Harry joined the rest of the group.

"So how was the midget," asked Ron.

"Ron, don't refer to Abercrombie that way," replied Katie, "we don't was to make him nervous because he is young."

"What, I didn't mean it in a bad way," replied Ron, "he _is_ really short, and I didn't call him snot nosed like all the other first and second years."

"You were once a first and second year," replied Katie.

"I know, but I wasn't that short or snot nosed," replied Ron as he whipped a bugger from his nose.

Katie rolled her eyes, "my choices for the chaser spots are Ginny and Gerald MacFusty."

"I second Ginny, but MacFusty is slow on a broom," replied Ron.

"It was the schools," replied Katie.

"Ohh," replied Ron, Andrew and Jack.

"If I let Abercrombie use my Firebolt, and he traded his Comet 260 to Gerald, will that solve the problem," asked Harry.

"Yea," replied Katie, "so, Abercrombie is the new seeker?"

"He's the only one that showed," replied Harry, "not to mention, he is good."

"Not as good as you," replied Andrew.

"Yea," replied Jack.

"I know, but rules are rules," replied Harry, "I can't play, and you all know that."

"How do you think he'll hold up," asked Katie.

"I think if he got over being star struck and stopped reading the _Daily Prophet_, he would be able to think better," said Harry as the rest of the team started to laugh.

"Fat chance, mate," replied Ron.

"Other wise," continued Harry, "I think he would take out the Hufflepuff seeker and maybe even Cho. I highly doubt him to take out Malfoy, he would be too scared."

"True, that git scares me even now," replied Sloper.

"Okay, here's the line up," said Katie, "Ron as keeper, Jack and Andrew as Beaters; Me, Ginny Weasley, and Gerald MacFusty as chasers, and Euan Abercrombie as seeker, with Harry as seeker coach and manager. If Euan is taken out permanently, you will be the next up, Harry. I'll post the results tonight, is that good with everyone?"

"Yes, captain," intoned everyone.

"Shut up you, lot and go take a shower and change," ordered Katie, "you all reek to high heaven."

Ω∞†∞Ω

Saturday night meant one thing for Harry, and that was his detention with Sun Gao. Everyone had seen it for themselves, but many rumors had started to spread about Harry's actions, some that were entirely false, and others that were more close to the truth. A simple kiss had started to spiral into something that Harry hoped was forgotten about soon. However, this kiss also meant he was to serve a detention for Sun Gao, his first of the year, and that brought him to the present frame of mind when he opened the oaken door to gain access to his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"It is good to see you again, Chwen," replied aged Chinese man, "I asked for your detention to be served with me. Please take a seat."

Harry sat in full lotus position in front of Sun Gao, "I am here to serve my detention for kissing Parvati, right sir?"

"In part," replied Sun Gao, "that will be filled out in full if you answer my questions. How are the morning runs?"

Harry gulped, he knew where these questions will be going, "they are going well, sir. The class complained for a while, but they are still following through. Dean is the only one that can keep up with me, sometimes even surpassing my skill."

"Just as I thought," replied Sun Gao, his eyes closed and brows relaxed in his meditative state, "are there any that don't run in the mornings?"

"Yes," replied Harry as he cast his eyes downward, "Malfoy and Goyle…"

"Shern and Tsong Jiau," corrected Sun Gao.

"Yes, sorry sir," replied Harry respectively, "Shern and Tsong Jiau have not been running with us."

"Have you not asked them," asked Sun Gao.

"No, I have not sir," replied Harry, "I felt that it is there responsibility to join us as we ran."

"Are you not the leader of the run," asked Sun Gao.

"You have appointment me as such, sir," replied Harry.

"I thought you would have known better, Chwen," replied Sun Gao, "I see that was a mistake, and I apologize for my poor choice. You are stripped of your lead of the run; Dean will be the new leader. I hope you will inform him. This Clan will only remain strong by those that incorporate everyone, there can be no dissention. I ask you for your advice now, Chwen, how would you punish Shern and Tsong Jiau in a fair manner?"

Harry wasn't upset at the loss of leading the morning runs, he and Dean practically shared that already. Harry racked his brains to think of a fair punishment for Malfoy and Goyle, one that they owed to the Clan. _Miss a run, owe a run_, thought Harry finally.

"I would make them complete all the runs they missed," he said, "they owe that much to the Clan."

"I am proud of your choice, Chwen," replied Sun Gao, "Shern and Tsong Jiau will complete the runs they owe the Clan in Tuesday's lesson, in front of everyone on the treadmills."

Harry winced, he did not think the public exhibition of Malfoy's and Goyle's punishment was deserved. But if that's what Sun Gao thinks, that is what will be done, he is the professor after all.

"You do not approve," asked Sun Gao.

"No," replied Harry, "I do, it's just…by the time Tuesday's lesson rolls around, they will have to run a total of seventy metric miles and they haven't even run one. The rest of the Clan has trouble running ten, seventy would…"

"Make them think twice before missing another run," replied Sun Gao, "sometimes the harshest punishment is the one that affects you the most. How many runs have they missed so far?"

"Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and today," counted Harry on his fingers, "four runs, so forty metric miles."

"Run," was all Sun Gao said, just as he did during the summer.

Harry didn't need to be told twice, and he walked over to the treadmill and began to run out the forty metric miles for his punishment for not getting Malfoy and Goyle into the run. Some four hours later, Harry had finished run, exhausted, a light tingle going through his scar, though not searing pain, just an annoyance.

"Are you alright, Chewn?" asked Sun Gao.

"Yes, sir," replied Harry as he rubbed his scar.

"Your curfew expired several hours ago," he said, "I suggest you get to your dorm and catch a few hours of sleep.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Harry was walking down a dark corridor to make it to Gryffindor Tower. Occasionally he would rub his scar trying to stop it from tingling, but to no avail. _Perhaps Dumbledore was right_, thought Harry, _and I only get intrusions from Voldemort now when I'm exhausted_. As Harry was walking and contemplating, he didn't hear the footsteps that were behind him.

"_Lumos_," said the greasy haired figure of Severus Snape, the light from his wand brought the view of his least favorite student to view, "Potter, what are you doing out of bounds this late at night?"

Harry turned around, the groan escaping his throat as his suspicions were confirmed, "returning to my dorm after my detention with Sun Gao, sir."

"That's _professor_ Sun Gao, to you Potter," replied Snape, "and I believe that are highly esteemed Oriental Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would follow school rules and not send his students out of detention at two in the morning. Do not paint me as a fool, Potter, for the colours of your palate are skewed. Now, where were you, or where are you off to."

"Back to Gryffindor Tower, _sir_," replied Harry, extremely peeved that Snape wouldn't believe him coming from Sun Gao's detention, when all the professors had agreed on the punishment.

"Likely parable," replied Snape in his patent sneer, "however, I have reason to believe that you were out rendezvousing with person or persons unknown. Perhaps it was from the Room of Requirement you came from. The Headmaster has displayed a certain weariness of said room and its uses for the student populace, perhaps that weariness steams from his most beloved pupil. Tell me if I'm mistaken, Potter, I dare you."

"You will find, _Professor Snape_, that I am no where near the Room of Requirement," replied Harry, "and that I am telling you the truth, _sir_."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your cheek," replied Snape, "another twenty points for being out of Bonds this late at night and a week of detentions with me to be served in every night next week. Can you comprehend that better then a first year potions recipe, Potter."

"Sir, yes, sir," replied Harry.

"Off to your _precious_ tower," replied Snape, "the scent of your cheesy perfume ridden body sickens me."

As Harry was walking away he muttered, "with a nose like yours, couldn't you tell the difference between perfume and body odor."

"What was that, Potter," asked Snape, Harry turned around.

"Nothing, sir," replied the teen as he turned back and started to walk back to his common room, "nothing at all."

Ω∞†∞Ω

_Harry surveyed the room the stood before him. It was like any muggle conference room. Disgusted by the sight, Harry's white thin fingers pulled out his sickly coloured wand and pointed it to the walls. He transfigured them all into a cold grey stone from their previous corporate 'Mellow Yellow', along with the ceiling tiles. The floor was then transfigured from its white specked linoleum to a cold grey flagstone. The light had disappeared from the room, but Harry could still see through the dark in shades of grey._

_He sat at the head of the long table, which he also transfigured into the same cold grey stone, in the so called 'power seat' facing the doorway. In truth, any seat he took would be known as the power seat. He conjured five orbs that gave of a glow a sickly green colour, similar to that of the Killing Curse, his preferred spell. _

_Harry realized all too late that he had traveled into Voldemort's mind and was seeing through the Dark Lord's eyes. He had been there twice before, yet each time it was a shock to his system. He was going through a mental fight in his head, whether to stay and find more information, or to leave and save himself from being discovered. The answer presented itself. _

_A black robed and white masked figure walked through the doorway and prostrated himself at the front of the table. _

_"Arise, young Poliakoff and tell me all that you have learned," drawled the charismatic and fear inspiring voice of Voldemort, wand still held in his hand, thought concealed in his robes sleeve._

_"The town es ours, mi'lord," replied the black cloaked figure in a foreign accent that Harry could not place as Bulgarian or Russian, "The Lieutenants await your command."_

_"The town is mine, not ours," replied Voldemort, the loathing apparent in his voice, "and no thanks to your information Poliakoff. I was not prepared for a full squad of Zansteps to stop me, and as such my physical form was exhausted in the ensuing fight. Had I known that I would have met resistance, I would have sent in the wave of Death Eaters first. Tread carefully Poliakoff, you are on a thin blade."_

_"I am terr…terribly sorry, mi'lord," replied Poliakoff, "but I do chave some gud noos. One of muy operatives chas given me useful noos. The Manchurian General and several of his officers, live."_

_"That is not good news, Poliakoff," replied Voldemort vehemently, "it is very disconcerting. I thought I had killed him, along with his army, as long as he lives, I have a war to fight on more sides then necessary. If this is all the news you have for me…"_

_"Mi'lord," exclaimed Poliakoff, "che chas also informed me that...Harry Potter has suffered a severe injury to his hand."_

_"Poliakoff, you disappoint me," replied Voldemort as he whipped his brow, "to think that my personal vendetta against one person would over rule my judgment of a whole war is quite misplaced. Though I take a slight sadistic pleasure in Mr. Potter's pain, it will not cloud my resolve for this conflict, and he will be needed for later. You have wholly disappointed me, Poliakoff, and following the teachings of one of my former mentors, that pain that you have cause me today with your upsetting information that has led me to exhaustion, along with your secret operative that is only been a harbinger of bad omens, you shall pay for this transgression with what you have caused me, personally. _Crucio!_"_

_Poliakoff withered on the floor crying out in pain. He rolled himself into a fetal position, screaming and crying as he was being tortured. Voldemort watch on calming. He took neither pleasure or disgust in his action for he thought that his spy, and spy handler, deserved it. _

_Harry was wondering who all these people were. Who was this Manchurian General, and his officers, and was he really the Half-Blood Prince. Harry watched through Voldemort's eyes at the form of a panting foreign Death Eater and he felt slightly sad that the Death Eater had to go through all that. Was he soft? No. Perhaps compassionate? Not really. Harry knew that a good leader never would purposely harm their people unjustly, would they? Then again, who ever said Voldemort was a good leader? Maybe I'm not talking about Voldemort._

_"Bring in the Lieutenants," ordered Voldemort of Poliakoff, who obeyed and crawled out of the room…_

That was the thought Harry had when he woke up at four o'clock in the morning. The vision from the previous night escaping from his exhausted and muddled brain that was only satiated by two hours, not even, of sleep. Sitting up, Harry rubbed the scar on his head as he slipped into a pair of his running shorts and a loose shirt for the morning run. The other occupants of the dorm were stirring, Ron, Neville and Dean for the morning run, and Seamus because of the noise they were all making.

"Wherecha off tah," asked Finnegan in his Irish accent.

"Go back to sleep, mate," said Dean softly, his friend listened and went right back to sleep.

"Hey, Dean," whispered Harry.

"Yea?"

"Your leading the runs from now on," said Harry, Neville and Ron looked at him incredulously.

"Why," asked Dean in disbelief, "we practically share the title."

"Sun Gao's orders," was all Harry said, they all understood and went about their routine in preparation for the morning run and left the dorm closing the door quietly so as not to disturb Seamus from his sleep.

**

* * *

****A/N:** Sorry this took me longer then usual to get out, but I recently had some health issues that set me back. However, knowing that my adoring public could not live with out an update, I wrote for two days straight to get this puppy out. I hope you've all enjoyed it. 

I hate how I broke the JKR's rule of having Chapter 13 always be October 31st. I hope you can all forgive me.

I tried to get the attitudes of the centaurs right, and I hope my explanation, or I should say Dumbledore's explanation, covered why centaurs act the way they do.

Yes, Dumbledore talked the centaurs into a peaceful coexistence.

I see there being more then just Magorian's Clan in the Forbidden Forest and surrounding areas, though his is the main and more numerous clan.

I got the name Anasazi and Raraku both from Jared Diamond's recent book, _Collapse_. The Anasazi were a Native American Tribe in the area were the four states meet at one corner. Anasazi, as a word however, means 'The Ancient Ones' in Navajo. Raraku was taken from Easter Island, where Rano Raraku was the quarry the Easter Islanders got the stone to produce their statues.

Kal'el is Hebrew that means 'gift from G-d', but is more commonly associated as the true birth name of Superman (alias, Clark Kent).

Vampires are like people infected with a sexually transmitted infection, and this is no way a bashing of people with sexually transmitted infection. An STI can and will, depending on the virus, change the host so that the virus can spread itself, just like open lesions from herpes, faster to more hosts. Vampirism is the same way, that it changes the life expectancy of the person so that is can infect others with the 'cursed disease' longer. And also, like when a person is diagnosed with an STI they will abstain from sexual intercourse, Vampires try to abstain from the wizarding, as well as muggle even thought the bite will not 'turn them', public. There are a few oddballs, which make up a small population of the all the vampires, that do enjoy taking lives and drinking blood, but the majority try to stay away from humans in general, and thus most of the vampires can be found in the uninhabited forests of Russia, far away from people, but not from a source of sustenance: animals.

Just like most races in the magical world, wizards and witches misunderstand Vampires. Oh, almost forgot, in my version of vampirism, when a wizard or witch is bit, they're transformations takes a three day incubation period: normal-like for a day, then feverish, and then pseudo-death/coma. When they are 'reborn', the former witch or wizard losses all of his or her power, which is diverted to fuel their extra long lifespan (which the longest recorded was 500 years) and their powers of speed and agility. They are allergic to light, it will kill them in a high dose, allergic to garlic, a high does will cause cold like symptoms. They do not need to sleep in the dirt of their homelands and crosses and silver do nothing to them. There are only two ways to kill a vampire besides obliteration, remove the head, or remove the heart. They can not regenerate limbs like in the _Blade_ series. Okay, that's all I have to say on vampires, sorry I took so long.

The facts about Cassanova are true.

Harry need to find a place to hold meeting for the D.A.

MacFusty is a real name that I got from HP-Lexicon.

I think I've said enough, and hope you can all figure out the rest. Oh about the new page breaks.

Ω - Omega a feminine name that means 'great'

∞ - Infinity, which also is the 'connecting' links between Harry's vow brands.

†- Is actually not a cross, but a dagger, I used the page break in French Script so that the dagger actually came to a point.

I would also like to thank **Ansku, ztomrun, joseole, LunarExcalibar, HarryReader, Pheonixdor Dragonclaw, mosleyn001, **and **I-Confuse-Everyone** for reviewing the last chapter, I hope I have answered most of your questions and made some useful changes to this fic's layout. I would also like to thank those of you who read but didn't review, you guys are important too! I'm tired, I need to lie on a heating pad. I feel like an old man and I'm only _17_ years old. I hope you all had fun reading.

Good Night Cleveland!

(crowd: this is Providence!)

Oh, pardon me. Good Night Providence!

(crowd: sounds of applause and cheering)

forfie

P.S. My name is not Forfie MacForfie in anyway shape or form, it was just supposed to be a joke.

P.P.S. I had to do a major edit because I remembered that there was more names on the list that Dumbledore gave Harry, and also to tell you all of something that i have kept forgetting. If you want to picture Anythony Goldstein, look at him as a young Joseph Fiennes from the movie _Enemy at the Gates_.


	14. Felix Felicis

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the rights of Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. The title for this chapter is not my creation either, but that of JKR. No profit is being made from this. And considering I'm flat broke, even with a job as a Soda Jerk, it is so not cool but, heh, I rather not be sued.

This is the unbeta'd version.

This chapter is dedicated to HarryReader, he will understand why.

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By forfie

Chapter 14.) Felix Felicis

Monday and Sunday rolled by easy enough. No one had complained with the change of leadership from Harry to Dean for the morning runs, it was effectively still the same. Harry had not told anyone about his detention with Sun Gao because he felt that if the others knew he had a hand in Malfoy's and Goyle's, it might be perceived as unjust or biased. Monday had meant he had Intelligent and Sentient Beings in the morning, Herbology before lunch and Charms before dinner, a whole day of three classes where the most interesting thing that happened was a promise from Algernon Beamish to _try_ and find a vampire to talk to the class. Neurloading his Transfiguration and Charms text books had insured Harry that he would never have consult them, as well as practicing most of the spells in his spare time on Sunday, and have full knowledge of them. He had to work on some of the spell casting, but time was something he had spades of because of all the independent study periods. It was also the first night of a week of detentions with Snape, where he had to scrub down all of the cauldrons of the first and second years twice. Harry speculated that he would have to do the third and fourth years the next night.

Now it was Tuesday and it was also time for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry had had Creation class in the morning, which was interesting as the class from Thursday, though nothing really new as a topic, just research into past creators and their creations. Harry was slightly worried, and it was quite evident on his face, as well as the toll it took on his body, for he had to make a quick stop to the 'little boys' room before making it up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Effectively making him a good five minutes late.

Harry stepped through the oaken door in the bamboo clad room to hear the sounds of heavy panting, cursing and the continuous spin of machinery. Harry looked over to the right wall, Malfoy and Goyle looked well into their runs. They had removed their robes, button down shirts and ties, with dark sweat stains on their backs. The rest of the class, the Clan really, was looking on them with a mix of pity and justice.

Sun Gao approached Harry right away, "you are late Chwen."

"I'm sorry, sir," replied Harry evenly, his eyes not leaving Malfoy or Goyle, "but I had to make a stop to the bathroom."

"You had a whole independent study before hand," replied Sun Gao.

"I really had to go," replied Harry biting his lip.

"Very well, Chwen," replied Sun Gao, "come, join the rest of us."

Harry followed Sun Gao the rest of the group. He took a spot standing next to Hermione and Ron, both had mixed emotion over what they saw. Hermione's were a battle between justice, anger at the lack of concern and pity, while Ron's were a mix of justice, righteousness, and a look that can only be described as 'he got what he deserved'. Harry's face was blank as he watched them.

"How far are they," asked Harry.

Hermione pointed to the green number that was etched into the wall between the two that read ¾ of a metric mile. _They're dead_, thought Harry, _if they are like that after ¾, there is no way they can go for 70._

"Come to…gloat…Potter," spat out Malfoy as he was out of breath, inhaling through his mouth hard.

"Shern, it will help if you inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth," said Harry, wanting to assuage some of the damage down by his decision.

"Shut…up…Potter," replied Malfoy, "and…I am…a …Malfoy."

"Not here, you are," replied Sun Gao.

"I…won't stop…being who… I am…for _you_….," said Malfoy breathlessly, Goyle grunted next to him, the lug had listened to Harry's advice to breath in through the nose instead of the mouth and it was making it easier.

They continued to run late into the night. The others watched on, some gain concerned looks when Malfoy and Goyle started to stumble on their feet. Everyone skipped dinner, an action that would not go unnoticed, and stood their watching two of their classmates, albeit one arrogant prejudicial aristocrat and his crony, as they slowly tired from exhaust to the point that when they had finished sometime around three in the morning, they collapsed on the still moving treadmills and were flung back. Surprisingly, Hermione, Padma, Michael and Susan all tried to help them back up using their rudimentary knowledge of healing charms.

Sun Gao brought out two canteens of water and gave them to Malfoy and Goyle, both of whom drank from the proffered water receptacles greedily. They had completed their run of seventy metric miles, a feat that not everyone thought they could obtain in one day. The group of students said nothing, just stood there, in the same spot they had been standing in for hours, looking at the two people before them, they chest heaving up and down with every breath they took. The room was stricken by silence, no words were said; only the wheezes of Malfoy and Goyle were herd.

Sun Gao surveyed the classroom, looking into everyone's eyes, no one faltered under the aged Asian's eyes as they slowly canvassed the crowd, "this is their punishment for not doing as I ordered," he intoned to the whole class before turning to Malfoy and Goyle, "Shern and Tsong Jiau, will you miss another run again?"

Goyle shook his head while Malfoy glared at Sun Gao, the anger was palpitating through the blonde's eyes. Shaking, he got to his knees and proceeded to stand up. Trembling all the while, Malfoy tried to steady himself by taking three large breaths before leveling his eyes cold grey eyes on Sun Gao.

"My name is Draco Walpurgis Malfoy," he growled out, "and you will not take that away from me."

Sun Gao looked unimpressed, "there will be no run this morning, everyone go back to your dorms and sleep in a bit this morning. However, Shern, you will remain here while the others leave," he turned to the class, "go now."

Everyone picked up their belongings without a word, Michael was hauling Goyle with Blaise because he was too tired, sore, and exhausted to move himself. They all left the classroom, no one looking back at what might happen to Draco.

Ω∞†∞Ω

It was Friday, September the 13th in the year 1996 read the date line of the _Daily Prophet_. Then again, the sometimes truthful newspaper had no importance for the day except telling Harry the date. The only thing that was interesting was a small article stated that the Minister Fudge would be meeting with the newly appointed President of the Magical Federation of Russia, and his undersecretary. As well as the Ministers of Canada, Iceland, Norway and Greenland, including other dignitaries that were not listed, on the 21st of the month which will be the biggest meeting of nations in the magical world, outside of the International Confederation of Wizards and Quidditch World Cups. The article was a square that was about three inches wide and long that was buried beneath comments on the latest lost of the Chudley Canons to the Holyhead Harpies.

Harry dropped the paper to the side, to see Hermione still reading hers and Ron stuffing his face in an attempt to get out of a conversation with Katie Bell, who was a Holyhead Harpies fanatic, over her quidditch teams latest win, and Ron's quidditch team's latest lost. Two owls landed in front of Harry, one was a regular nondescript brown owl, the other looked a lot like Percy's. Ron spluttered for a second, spraying the mix mass of food that was in his mouth all over the prim screech owl, who turned to face Ron with an indignant look.

"What are you doing here, Hermes," asked Ron accusatorily, "if that ponce has sent me another letter to tell me to stay away from my friends, I'll…."

"You'll what, Ron," asked Hermione, "hurt the owl that was a messenger."

"Well…no not really," replied Ron, "but I'd tear up the letter with out reading it."

"Couldn't Percy be trying to apologize," pointed out Hermione.

Ginny mockingly laughed at that when she sat down next to Hermione, "Hermione, this is _Percy _we're talking about. I would agree with you if it were any of my other brothers, yes, even you Ron. But Percy would never apologize."

"I understand that, Ginny," replied Hermione, "but with the Ministry admitting Voldemort's—both Ron and Ginny shuddered when Hermione said the name—return, it might have knocked some sense into him."

"Boys are complicated beings," replied Ginny.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and tried not to laugh, "I think he's here for me," said Harry as Hermes turned his eyes toward Harry.

"See it, might be an apology," replied Hermione.

"Only way to tell is to open it," replied Ginny, Harry didn't need to be told twice before removing the letter from Hermes, the owl flew out of the Great Hall, and began to read.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Your presence is requested for the attendance of a conference between multiple dignitaries, including that of the Minister of Magic, in the Ministry of Magic, at 10:00 a.m. on the morning of the 21st of September, 1996. Transportation will be provided from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as permission from Headmaster Albus Dumbledore for you absence from school, that will collect you from the gates of Hogwarts at 7:30 a.m. promptly. Professional attire is required.

The meeting will commence at 10:15 after introduction have been made, in the Minister's conference room. No response is required, your presence is required. You may tell no one of this meeting.

Sincerely,

Percy Weasley

Assistant to Minister Fudge

_This must be the same thing that the Ministers of Russia, Iceland, Canada, Greenland and Norway are going to,_ thought Harry, _what is this all about, why do I have to attend, and how did Percy get to be Assistant to the Minister?_

"Well, Harry was it an apology," asked Hermione, "it would have been mature of him to apologize to you."

"Err…not exactly," replied Harry as he folded up the letter, _tell no one of this meeting_ was the only thought he had as he pushed the letter into his satchel.

"What did my so called brother say now, Harry," asked Ron as he piled more food onto his plate.

"Nothing really," replied Harry.

"Percy wouldn't write to you out of the blue, Harry," stated Hermione.

"Look, just drop it, okay," said Harry as he took his other letter from the brown owl, "I couldn't talk about it with anyone anyway."

Harry unfurled the letter to see a mix mash of squiggly lines with hard corners. He looked at the foreign text oddly before the back of his right calf tensed like a cramp and his vision blurred before he could make out the letter. _Gobbeldegook_ thought Harry as he rubbed his back leg.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Upon receiving your letter a few days ago, I used as many Gringotts' resources available to me to research the backgrounds of Mr. Cripps and Mr. Kelpurn. I have fair reason to accept them both based on past records and public portrayal of their opinions. I understand the prospect of this corporation you have in mind, and find that it is rather ingenious. I have been keeping a short list of companies that you might like to look into Mr. Potter, of which I would like to talk with you in person, along with Mr. Cripps and Mr. Kelpurn, on the 28th of the month. I hope this time will suit you well.

Also, I have an updated report on your ventures with both Mr. Jordan and Messers Weasley. The night club construction has continued with out a hitch and all structural work was completed before the start of your term at Hogwarts. As of late, all the façade and some of the interior have been completed. Along with the hype caused by some articles in the _Daily Prophet_ about your part ownership of Fairy Tails, the parlours have all been booked for up to three months and paid for in advance. The profits that have come in, as well as the 'back to school' sale at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, have given you a monthly dividend totaling around 7,000,000 Galleons. All of which were properly deposited into your account.

The Head of the British Gringotts' division, Gudrun, has expressed interest into you, in general terms only, and would like me to report a financial review of all of your actions. I have also transferred the amount of 5,000,000 Galleons to the Ministry of Magic, along with your explicit instructions. Everything seems to be in perfect order.

Cordially,

Griphook

Harry folded that letter up placed it with the Ministry summons in his satchel and whipped his face with his hands, his stubbly jaw scratching his palms. He took a gulp of his pumpkin juice and walked out the room, having completely ignored the questions from his friends. He walked aimlessly through the halls, his thoughts swimming between Ministry requests, monthly dividends, and the Head of Gringotts looking into him. Harry finally stopped and rested his forehead against cool steel object, hearing the footfalls of shoes as they approached him from behind.

He turned around fast and held Hermione's wrist in a grip that was neither firm nor weak, but oozed of his feeling of not wanting to be mollycoddled. _For Merlin's sake,_ he thought, _every since Sirius died, Hermione has been treating me like a piece of crack glass._ Ron came into the hallway to see Harry holding Hermione's wrist away.

"I thought it was me and Hermione that were supposed to be lover birds," said the red head.

Harry started to smile and let go of Hermione's wrist before he slid down and backwards slowly, his head resting against the cool metal of the large trophy he was relaxing against.

"I thought it would be too soon before I entered this room again," continued Ron as he made his way to his friends.

Harry opened his eyes and looked around the trophy hall, the same one that Ron had to clean with out magic for detention in their second year. Sighing, Harry adjusted his seat against the large trophy cup, Ron sitting next to him, leaning against another trophy, Hermione sitting in front of them both, cross legged in the middle of the floor. Anyone that would have been crossing the hallway would have raised an eyebrow at the three of them. However, most people were still in the Great Hall eating.

"Are you alright, mate," asked Ron finally after a long silence.

There was a pregnant pause before Harry answered, "I told myself to stop saying fine…but I just can't seem to stop…don't worry about it."

"Harry, we want to help," replied Hermione

"Mate, look, bottling up emotions is like…making a potion in front of Snape," said Ron, "your cauldron will explode."

Harry laughed at the humour of Ron's statement before sighing, "guys, I just feel that…I have too much on my hands…right now."

"Harry, we understand that the loss of Sirius has taken a big toll on you," said Hermione.

"It's not just Sirius…" replied Harry, _don't mention the Prophecy, anything except the Prophecy…_

"Is it because of V-vol- vold-vold…" said Ron, trying to over come his fear of the name.

"C'mon, Ron," urged Hermione, "it's only a name."

"Crickey, don't you think I know that," replied Ron, "Harry, is it because of V-Voldemort?"

Harry looked at Ron with a small smile, "not just him, mate."

"Then who," asked Ron.

"Or what," added Hermione.

"How well do you two know my financial background," asked Harry, deciding to blow the secret that would most likely be discovered shortly by journalist.

"You're rich, mate," replied Ron instantly, no jealously in his voice, "though I'm surprised Sirius left you no money, my parents told me about the will. If Sirius was here, I'd like to thank him."

"Wouldn't we all," replied Harry.

"Harry, what aren't you telling us," asked Hermione.

"The money you saw in my vault was the tip of the iceberg," replied Harry.

"_Tip_ of the iceberg," asked Hermione.

"I found out for myself when I visited Gringotts," continued Harry, "I…inherited money from six pureblood families…no one left alive in any of them…and reward money for my defeat of Voldemort when I was one…"

"Six families?" asked Ron

"Reward money?" asked Hermione.

Harry sighed and rubbed his face, "you both know the details of that night… I rather not have to rehash them. Crouch had offered a reward of a million Galleons to the person that defeated Voldemort…"

"You have a _million_ Galleons," Ron nearly shouted.

"Not quite," replied Harry, "after fifteen years of interest, it's more like two million Galleons."

"Two _million_," shouted Ron.

"There's more, isn't there, Harry," said Hermione, giving Ron a stare that clear said he wasn't helping the situation.

"Yes," said Harry and rubbed his face again, "a lot families lost their sons and daughters in the war…they wanted to make sure that their money went to a child they knew would survive…so six families chose me…I used some of the money to help out the Order…and I used a fair portion to help the Ministry's war effort… and I just got a monthly report and…I gained seven million Galleons."

"Harry," stated Hermione, clearing not like the idea of giving money to the Ministry.

"I have in excess of nigh hundred million Galleons," replied Harry, "and I don't know what to do with it all."

Ron whistled and started laughing while Hermione remained calm.

"Harry, with all the money, you won't have to live with the muggles anymore," replied Ron ecstatically, "Hell, mate, we could rent an apartment in London if we wanted to…that sounds like a good idea."

Harry looked at Ron wistfully. Wishing that he could do such a thing, but also realizing that the blood protection from his mother still resided between his aunt and himself. Harry shook his head, dispelling any ideas of living in London with Ron, let alone anyone else.

"Harry, this is a lot for you to handle," replied Hermione, "you need to higher some kind of lawyer and accountant besides Griphook."

"I know," replied Harry, "and I am."

"Does the Order agree to them," asked Hermione.

"Their backgrounds have been checked," replied Harry, "I meet with them on the twenty-eighth."

They sat there in silence for a while, before Hermione reminded them that class would be starting soon. Ron helped Harry up, Hermione got up by herself. Ron looked up and whistled, the other two looked to him questioningly.

"Did either of you know about that," he said and pointed to a trophy, "the one between David Fiore and R. J. H. King."

Wedged between the two plaques was a plaque for Special Services to the school with the name of all the students that were at the Platform 9 ¾ths attack. It wouldn't have been noticed, except for the fact that the dates were out of sequence, David Fiore was presented in 1973 and R. J. H. King was presented in 1975, and the obvious names that alerted Ron.

"Harry, did Sirius or Remus ever mention an R. J. H. King," asked Hermione.

"Not that I know of, why do you ask," questioned Harry, the last name King did strike a cord with him, being one of the families he inherited money from.

"Because it says that he was in Gryffindor," replied Hermione, "and the time suggest that he was there around the time of your parents, Sirius and Remus."

"I don't know if they knew him," replied Harry, "though…one of the families…I inherited money from…were the Kings…that must be their son…the one that died in the war."

"The money feels kind of different when you know the names behind it," stated Ron.

"No," replied Harry, "the money feels the same…the feeling of not being able to get rid of it is what gets worse…"

Ω∞†∞Ω

The next week flew by for Harry in anticipation of his meeting at the Ministry. Luckily, he was able to convince his friends that he was going to check up at Gringotts, and they knew well enough not to hassle him too much, as he was overwhelmed. He had donned a pair of his school pants and a buttoned down shirt, his Gryffindor tie, with a black school robe on that he took the badge off for the occasion. He secured his wand to his right forearm in his holster, checked that his cuff was still on, and washed his glasses. That was his morning routine of the 21st, currently Harry was being flown through the air by a carriage of threstals, the Ministry arranged transportation.

There was a good tail wind that morning that sped up his arrival to the Ministry, arriving at the muggle entrance of the Ministry of Magic at 9:45 a.m. He stepped into the broken down phone booth and dialed in the code, 6-2-4-4-2, on the rotary keypad. After the keypad righted itself, the usual cool female voice began.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter," he replied, pausing for to think about what to say next, "err…here to attend a conference at the request of Minister Fudge."

"Thank you," replied the cool female voice. "Please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes," just then, a sound could be heard in the money chute, where Harry picked up a badge that said _Harry Potter, Minster Conference_, which he pinned to his Hogwarts robe in place of his Gryffindor badge. "You are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium," continued the female voice as the telephone box slowly sunk into the ground. Surrounded by darkness caused Harry to close his eyes in a vain attempt to avoid the pain of the bright light of the Atrium.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the women's voice before disappearing.

The Ministry's Atrium looked horribly the same, thought Harry as he looked at the constantly lit green fires in the 'incoming' and 'outgoing' floos. The hustle of people was evident, the different languages that flew through the air confused Harry, except for some words in French two guys were sharing with each other about the girls they had picked up thus far. Harry moved forward to the security desk and was halfway there until he noticed that the Atrium was different in one way, the Fountain of Magical Brethren was no longer there, in it's place was a circular pool that rose the mid shin. Around the rim, it said that the Peace and Calming Pool of the Magical World was in dedication to the casualties of war, all proceeds would go to the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies.

Harry tossed in some of his spare money before he walked to the security desk. Eric Munch, the same badly shaved wizard that Harry had met last year on his first visit to the Ministry of Magic.

"Wand, please," he said sticking out his hand and folding up his newspaper.

Harry flicked his wrist and placed his wand in the peacock blue robe wearing security guard's hand. Munch took out a golden antenna like instrument and scanned the wand, a piece of parchment soon appeared from the instrument.

"Kingwood, 13 5/8 inches long, containing poison sac of a lobulag, feather of a threstal, and the heartstring of a nun…," Eric Munich looked up into Harry's green eyes shocked, his eyes then traveled to Harry's badge, where they began to dilate, "pardon me, Mr. Potter. I…just wasn't expecting the heartstring of a nundu in any wand."

"I wasn't expecting it myself," replied Harry, "your names…Eric, right?"

"Yea, Eric Munch," replied the guard, "how'd you know."

"I remembered the article last year about you catching Podmore," replied Harry.

"Thought I did some good there," replied Eric, "but when he was found innocent I paid dearly for that…shame what happened to him though."

"Whatcha mean," asked Harry, _it isn't really a shame for someone to turn from ones country._

"He was part of the detail to guard Azkaban," replied Eric sadly, "they figured that he was already there, why not just keep him on guard. When You-Know-Who attacked it, all the guard were killed…they never found Podmore's body…he must have been obliterated or thrown into the North Sea or something."

_Should I tell him the truth,_ questioned Harry, but Eric continued, "Mr. Potter, if you don't mind my asking…how's it feel to…fight them?"

"Death Eaters," questioned Harry, Eric nodded, "pray you'll never find out. Sorry I have to cut this short…," continued Harry, "but…err…the Minister is expecting me for a conference."

"Good luck, Mr. Potter," said Munch as Harry walked away, "and have a pleasant stay at the Ministry."

Harry looked at his clean shaven face in the golden doors of the lifts quickly before he stepped into an open lift that had several people and paper airplanes in it. The doors clicked shut, the light fluttering around because of the flying memos.

"Shouldn't you be in school, Mr. Potter," asked the even voice of the square jawed, short grey haired, monocle wearing Amelia Bones.

"Madam Bones," replied Harry, slightly startled, the other occupants tired their best not to look like they were listening in, "I…I'm here for a conference with the Minister…"

"Say no more, lad," replied the witch, the worry winkles in her face more profound, "it appears we will get off on the same floor."

The lift stopped and the doors opened as the same cool female voice said, "Level six, housing the Department of Magical Transportation."

"Scuse me, 'scuse me," replied a man that was obscured from view by a box that was overflowing with junk as he got off and made his way down the corridor, an occasion dirty boot and used fizz can falling to the ground.

The doors closed again, and their way up to the first floor continued, Madam Bones turned to Harry again, "Susan speaks very well of you. That club you had last year really helped her on her O.W.L.s. Will you be continuing it this year?"

"I'm trying to," replied Harry, as the lifted stopped again, "but it's not that easy this year."

"Level four, housing the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," said the female voice.

The doors opened and three people left, while one stepped in. He had a familiar florid face with a scrubby beard and winkles at the corners of his mouth and eyes that were clearly from frowning and overall grief. Amos Diggory greeted Amelia Bones in a warm fashion, but it was clearly a front. Harry felt the sinew of his chest tightened once again, the father of Cedric was standing right next to him, _what should I do?_

Amos saved Harry the trouble, when he noticed him, "how are you… Harry," he asked shakily.

Harry bit his lip, not sure on how to talk with Mr. Diggory, "I've…been alright," he settled on.

The lift stopped again, the women's voice sounding, "Level two, housing the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Department of Improper Use of Magic, and the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts."

The last two people stepped off the lift as Mr. Weasley stepped in. He looked rather haggard as he adjusted his worn brown robes. Even though his family recently came into money because of Sirius' will, he refused to buy new robes for himself on principle, and instead used the money to ensure the education for his youngest children, supporting his other children and investing into business, leaving a little nest egg for him and Mrs. Weasley come time for his retirement. If he lived that long.

"Oh, my," exclaimed Mr. Weasley, "Harry…what are you doing here?"

"Err…the Minister requested that I be...here," replied Harry, "Do any of you know what's going on?"

"Only little parts," replied Bones.

The lift stopped again, "level one, housing the offices of the Minister for Magic, Conference rooms, the Department of War and Auror Corps."

"That's our stop," replied Mr. Weasley as he got out of the lift, followed by Madam Bones, Diggory held onto Harry's shoulder.

"Harry…" said Amos Diggory still shakily, "my wife said it to you a few years ago…but I feel I need to say it to…I don't blame you for Ced-Ced-Cedric's death."

With that, Amos whipped his eyes and followed his colleagues to the conference room. Harry could tell it pained Mr. Diggory to say his son's name. Not knowing what else to do, Harry stepped out of the lift and traveled down the corridor. The occasional door was open to show empty rooms, people looking at charts of the world with glowing red dots on them, memos flying about, and room that housed several hundred cubicles that were the headquarters of the Auror Corps, which had been moved up a level. Harry finally made it to the conference room right behind Amos Diggory.

The walls were a mint green colour that made Harry grimace, in the centre was a pale wood table that was circular that had five pitchers of water in the middle and a glass marked up with every seat. Besides Madam Bones, Arthur Weasley and Amos Diggory, there were three others in the room. A short man, maybe around 5 feet 5 inches tall, with cold unmoving brown eyes, salt pepper hair, which was more salt then pepper. He wore a navy blue suit under his grey robes, and would occasionally flick out his tongue to wet his lips. The other man in the room was tall, maybe 6 feet 3 inches, his skin was darker than the night, which made his eyes and teeth really stand out. He had a tiny afro, no longer then an inch and half long, and a thick goatee that was neatly trimmed. He was talking with a woman that had long brown hair in a ponytail, high cheek bones, extremely slim and petite, creamy white skin. She would not be out of place in a supermodel magazine, thought Harry.

"Grant, it's good to see you're back from Spain," said Mr. Weasley in an attempt at a friendly greeting with the short hard looking man.

"I can't say I'm glad to be back, Arthur," replied Grant in a coarse voice as he walked away and sat down in one of the chairs and poured himself a glass of water to dink.

Harry turned his head to the other part of the room.

"Mr. Rowe, I have heard many splendid things on your behalf from across the pond," acknowledged Madam Bones.

"Madam Bones, you flatter me with your sweet talk," he replied in an American accent, though it was different from Jenn's and her friends, "but please, just do me the honor and call me Graham."

"You suave Yank," replied Madam Bones with a laugh as she sat down next to him.

"I prefer to be labeled as a smooth operator," replied Graham Rowe with a wink before Madam Bones asked him some questions quietly.

"Seeing as the person I was talking to is now engaged with another, perhaps I should introduce myself," replied the high cheek boned woman, "Jamie Fisher."

He shook her hand, "Harry Potter."

"So you're the illustrious Mr. Potter," said cooed.

Harry looked down at himself and tapped his graphorn boot on the wooden floor, "last time I checked, I was. Still am, guess that's a good sign."

Jamie giggled but covered it with her hand before continue, "so can you tell me why you are her?"

"I don't even know myself," replied Harry, "all I know is that this is an odd assortment of people."

"Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," rattled off Fisher.

"Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department," continued Harry as he pointed to Mr. Weasley, "I believe the Ministers of Britain, Norway, Iceland, Greenland and Russia will also be in attendance."

"As well as the Minister of Canada," said Jamie, "one security specialist," she continued as she pointed to Graham Rowe, and then to herself, "and a creator, whose work for the past twenty days has been on the Unspeakable level."

"And the Boy-Who-Lived," finished Harry, "something has to connect us all."

"Looks like we are all going to find out soon," replied Jamie, "here come the Ministers."

Through the open door of the conference room, walked in thirteen individuals. Six ministers, six assistants and one guy that wore black robes over a navy blue suit that had a baby blue shirt with white collar and cuffs, a navy and pink striped tie and a gold lapel button. The ministers and their aides were still talking as the rest of the occupants looked at each other.

"It seems that we are all here," said Minister Fudge breaking away from a conversation and heading in Harry's direction, "please everyone, take a seat. Harry, my boy, I'm so glad you could make it. Sit, sit, everyone, please take a seat."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the fake kindness the minister was showing him and took a seat between Graham Rowe and Jamie Fisher. Rowe moved over a bit to make room for Harry. The Ministers all sat down, their respect aides to their right hand side. The doors of the conference room closed.

"Trying for the dramatic," muttered Graham before he turned to Harry, "Hey, how you doing pal? Name's Graham Rowe."

"Harry, Harry Potter," he said as he introduced himself, as everyone got settled pulling out papers, folders and quills.

"No crap?" asked Graham, "Jeez, thought you'd be a bit bigger."

Harry was saved from making a comment by Fudge.

"I believe it would be a proper time for introductions," said the Minister, "and as I am the host, I shall begin in informing everyone that doesn't know, I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Britain."

To his left, the short man stood up, and in his coarse voice said, "I am Grant Hughes Lawson, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Britain."

Madam Bones stood up next and said, "Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Britain."

Amos Diggory then stood up, "Amos Diggory, Head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Britain."

Mr. Weasley stood up next, "err…never was too good at introductions…I'm Arthur Weasley, Head of the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts…err…it's in Britain too."

Harry bit his lip while Percy held his head in his hands. The sandy blonde haired man that was wearing the navy blue suit, stripped tie, blue shirt with white cuffs, gold button, and black robes stood up next.

"Felix Felicis, Head of the Department of War, Britain."

Graham stood up next, "Graham Rowe, security specialist, I prefer to travel," he ended with a wink.

Harry stood up, understanding now why Mr. Weasley was nervous, "Harry Potter…err…Hogwarts Student…"

"Vhat is the meaning of thees, Fudge," asked a Minister that was draped in violet robes and had a thick long sideburns and a bulbous nose.

"I agree, che is only a child," replied a bearded man that had winkled cheeks and yellow teeth in a Russian accent.

"Kinder or no, he es Harry Potter," replied a man that had blonde hair, blue eyes a stock build for someone that was in his forties.

"All will make sense later on," replied Fudge.

"Anyway, I'm Jamie Fisher, a Freelance Creator recently hired to head a team of fellow Creators in the Unspeakable division, no permanent allegiance."

The man to Jamie's left looked like a typical lumberjack that was stuffed into a business suit at the last second, "Eric Warren, Assistant to the Minister of the Magical Commonwealth, Canada."

The young woman to Eric's left stood up, "Jennifer Adams, First Female Minister of the Magical Commonwealth, Canada."

A tall muscular man that looked more like a body guard then an assistant stood up next the man dressed in violet robes, "Hunrod Vatnsdal, Assistant to the Minister for Magic, Norvay."

The man with the giant sideburns and bulbous nose now stood up, "Ulfhedin Fostolf, Minters for Magic, Norvay."

An aged man that had grey hair many winkles stood up next, "Thorgils Holluson, Senior Assistant to the Minister for Magic, Iceland."

The man with blonde hair and blue eyes that had stood up for Harry in way, erected himself for introduction, "Eyvind Hrafnkel, Minster for Magic, Iceland."

Another muscular man that had wavy brown hair, as well as chest hair, stood up next, "Einar Sokkasson, Assistant for the Minster for Magic, Greenland."

A man dressed in golden robes stood up next, "Halvsey Garder, Minter for Magic, Greenland."

A lithe young man that had high cheek bones, white skin and short cropped brown hair that reminded Harry of the Durmstrang students dabbed a napkin to his lip before standing, "Aleksandr Poliakoff, Assistant to President of Magical Federation ov Russia."

"You sound familiar," said Harry out loud, racking his brain to try and remember.

"I visited Hogvarts during Tri-Vizard Tournament," replied Aleksandr, "You've might chave seen me, I am friends vith Viktor Krum."

"Maybe," said Harry, the thought itching in the back of his mind.

The man with the yellow teeth and beard stood up, his green robe swaying from his large frame slightly, "I am Vladimir Popov, President of Magical Federation of Russia, and Sasha chere," he grabbed Aleksandr's shoulder and patted it, "is very modest. Che practically runs whole country for me. Che is like…son to me."

"Thank you, sir," replied Poliakoff.

Percy Weasley now stood up, "I am Percival Weasley, Assistant to the Minister of Magic, Britain. I would like to thank you all for coming today, personally. However, I need to embellish a little in detail, though you will all have to agree with me on this. Nothing that is shared in this room today will leave these walls, at all. The up most secrecy of your respective governments must be held upon this."

"Vhat are we here to talk about," asked Ulfhedin Fostolf.

"Minister Fudge, the floor is yours," said Jennifer Adams.

"First, I would like to thank each and every one of you today for showing up," began the British Minister for Magic with his usual prepared speech, "I realize that the time was fairly short, and most of you are ill prepared and wondering what to day will be about. I will try not to be so longwinded in the private encounter. However, what I am proposing today shall will take time to explain. In essence, all the countries represented in this room are on fairly good basis with each other. What I propose today will put us on a closer basis with one another."

"Closer basis," asked Popov, "Chow do you mean?"

"President Popov, and Ministers Garder, Hrafnkel, Fostolf and Adams," said Fudge solemnly, "I would first like to present to each of you an idea, and from that idea, the true meaning of this meeting will come into place. Mr. Weasley, if you please."

Percy stood up, his eyes wandering to all the occupants of the room, except Harry's and his father's. He shuffled his note cards in his hand and smoothed out his cuffs.

"As of late, one that has fashioned himself the Dark Lord has returned. He will bring strife to all countries he visits in his quest for world domination, it is not just a British problem. From intelligence of an outside force that was set up to monitor the You-Know-Who's return, we have learned of his movements this summer. Originally he was based in near the Scottish and English boarder, around mid June to late July, he and his forces were in Norway. Currently, we have reason to believe he is in Russia, parts unknown."

"Ve all know this," said Popov looking around the table, "Da, am I right? Tell us something ve don't know."

"His amassed force exceeds over one thousand, not including estimated numbers of planted Death Eaters in cells," there were many gasps at this information, "currently, Britain is hindered because the force we have is not suitable to face the enemy, and for those we capture, we have no where to place them. Azkaban fortress was lost, and because it's location has become public knowledge, the Ministry felt it unsafe to reopen a prison in that exact location.

"With the idea and the start of a bank roll from Mr. Potter," Percy practically grimaced when he said Harry's name, "we at the British Minister have sought the help of outsiders for this creation. All of the people before me," Percy indicated to everyone that wasn't a Minister or a Minister's assistant, "have been given a small piece of information to elaborate on. Adding the subsequent pieces together, ladies and gentleman, the creation of Fortifien Wazzar, a shared prison between all of our respective countries, as well as an international one, if need be later, that shall be located at seventy degrees north, ten degrees west."

"Does the International Confederation of Wizards know about this," asked Minister Adams.

"No," replied Fudge, "I want this to be kept under strict lock and key. I would rather not have an underwater prison made a target."

"Undervater," questioned half the occupants of the room.

Jamie pounded her petite fist against the table, "it all makes sense now!"

"I see someone's enthusiastic," replied Graham Rowe.

Fisher turned her head to Rowe, "you know what Graham, bite me."

"Gladly, Fisher," replied Rowe, "just tell me when and where, babe."

"Yank," muttered Fisher.

"Canuck," replied Rowe.

"Mr. Rowe, please watch yourself," replied Minster Adams.

"I beg your pardon, Minister, I meant no disrespect," apologized Graham.

The Minister nodded in acceptance, Fisher continued, "and for your information, Rowe, I'm Aussie."

"Always did like girls when they are down under," replied Rowe with a cheeky smile and wink, Fisher glared at him and cracked her knuckles. Graham held up his hands, his index fingers pointed upwards and shaking back and forth, "I meant when they are _from _down under. From."

"Elite scum," muttered Jamie.

"That's the biggest oxymoron I've heard," said Rowe, "and please, don't dis my former profession. Do I disrespect you for being a former exotic dancer?"

Jamie blushed a shade redder then the colour of a Weasley's hair, both of whom were blushing furiously behind their ears and necks as they listened to these two bicker, "well you got the _moron_ part right," shot back Jamie.

"Children, do I have to put you both in time out," said Felix Felicis evenly as he leaned over the table, palms on it, "you know, I have a special room just down the way where you can both finish this in private and allow the adults to finish the meeting."

"Even de child es bechaving better den those two," muttered Popov to Poliakoff.

Harry glowered at still being referred to as the 'child'. Graham Rowe and Jamie Fisher seemed to gain some semblance of where they were and who they were in front of. They offered apologies for their behavior all around.

"If we may proceed with presentation, Miss. Fisher," said Minister Fudge indicating the young woman, "you are give permission to present any and all information on project Picekis."

"Thank you, sir," replied Jamie as she stood up and opened a folder in front of her, "Minister Fudge, if I may, I have a model of the project I would like to enlarge."

"Clearance is given, Miss. Fisher," replied Fudge.

Jamie took out a small button from the folder, placed it in the middle of the table and enlarged it, "I am the head of a team of Creators, thirteen in all, that were hired through the Department of Mysterious around twenty days ago. We were give the details that we needed to make at least a seven building structure that would not allow anything for the smallest drop of water to penetrate it, as well as hold up against unidentified, though extremely large, amounts of pressure, and use for long periods of time. At the time we did not know we were building a prison, but now it all makes sense."

In the center of the table stood a screw shaped complex, point facing downward and rounded head facing upwards, that had seven outer structures that all connected to the 'head' of the screw by a single to each corridor on the bottom. It looked like more like a squid that was swimming down realized Harry as he tilted his head to the side. In the center of the head was what looked like a spout, though with no turning head.

"The team decided that the best way besides the casting of unbreakable and impervious charms on every inch steel support, and stone structure, was to burry 75 percent of it…into the ocean floor, I guess it would be now," continued Jamie were she should the ground level on the model by indicating everything under the head, including half of the auxiliary buildings.

"Miss Fisher, would unbreakable and impervious charms be enough?" asked Jennifer Adams.

"Quite enough," replied Jamie, "if you cast the charm twice on an object, it should hold for well over a hundred years."

"Cheating, air, light, did your crew think of thees," asked the Russian Minister.

"Yes, we did," replied Jamie, "were told this will be a long term stay and have prepared certain aspects for it. Climate charms would be continuously going through out the whole building, as well as the floating orbs of light that are common in hospitals, like St. Mungo's. A continuous air circulation charm with be put in to keep the air fresh, traveling through the entire corkscrew design. However one of the problems we faced was the ability to create oxygen, no such spell can generate it. We over came this by having the top section—she pointed to the head of the screw—be filled with vegetation, both muggle and magical, which would renew the oxygen in the system, use the carbon dioxide, provide food for the crew, not to mention a quidditch pitch.

"It can house around 30,000 people, not including prisoners which would be confined to six of the outer buildings, one being used for occupants of the…station."

"Fortifien Wazzar," corrected Percy, "we have already come up with a name for it."

"Anyway," continued Jamie, going over what Percy was saying, "in truth, this will be more of a town than anything else."

"A town, you say," asked Poliakoff as he was making notes.

"Yes, even Australia started off as prison colony, it has been done before," said Jamie.

"Es it just me, or do any else of you see problem chere?" asked Popov.

"Problem, there is no problem with the design," defended Jamie.

"Chow are ve to transport prisoners to…to…thes theng," asked Popov.

"I believe that is were I come in," replied Lawson coarsely, "recently I came back from Spain were I met certain individuals from the muggle United States Navy secretly. They have three submersibles that they will be forced to scrap in five years time," he handed out three photos from his folder that had pictures of the three submarines on it, "I was able to procure all three of them at the lump sum of one million Galleons."

"One _million_ Galleons," exclaimed the Ulfhedin Fostolf, "vhere is thes money cooming froom."

"Err…that would be me," replied Harry.

"Preposterous," said Ulfhedin, "you are but kinder, vhere could you get money at such age?"

"I have nigh hundred million Galleons," replied Harry, which caused the ministers to shut up and look at him, "and just the other week, I gained seven million from a monthly dividend in the two businesses I share ownership with. Though I am not the richest person in England, not even second from what I'm told."

"No, that honor has befallen on me, Mr. Potter," replied Felix Felicis, "and I plan to match any donation you make to this project, though I haven't told anyone of that yet."

Harry raised his eye slightly at the comment, Felix continued, "I believe have gotten off topic, perhaps we shall wander back?"

Everyone got the clue, though Graham had a point, "a while back, the Elites tried something similar with the submarine idea," seeing the confused expression on most faces he elaborated, "before I became a security specialist, I was an Elite, which is similar to…the Auror Corps, the Zansteps, and respective other Special Forces and Tactics units."

"Only the Yank version is set up for not using their brains," muttered Jamie Fisher.

"I'll get back at you for that later," replied Graham, "but this point is to important to let go. Anyway, what happened with the Elite models is that there was too much magical interference inside the submarine, which caused the equipment to go haywire and the whole thing to sink to the bottom of the San Francisco Bay useless with a crew of thirty entombed. Also, to my knowledge, there is no magical power source."

"It pains me to say this," said Jamie, "but Graham is right. Any magic that is done inside the submarine would cause and REMP, or residual electro-magnetic pulse, which is a small wave that is created from magic that negates electronically devises and would short circuit all of the wiring and doom the vessel."

Graham sucked in his breath slightly and looked at Jamie, "what if I were to say I had some information that is sort of…illegal for me share?"

"I say eff legality and tell us," replied Jamie.

"Nothing will leave these walls," said Percy again, "we will not tell anyone the information you posses."

"Well…a _friend_ of sorts told me about this new chip she and several others were working on for the US Department of Defense," said Graham a bit uneasy.

"Pray tell, how many times did you have to sleep with her," asked Jamie as she rolled her eyes.

"I won't even remark to that," replied Graham as he continued and Jamie muttered to Harry 'that's only because he was horrible in the sack' which caused the teen to laugh, which was turned into a cough, "anyway, barring any other interruptions, I was going to say that my…_friend_…is halfway complete with making a chip that is EMP survivable."

"EMP survivable," asked Jamie wide eyed, "if that's possible, the melding of magic and electronics will be getting closer. That would be…"

"No it wouldn't," replied Graham, "magic around a muggle power source would disrupt the flow because of the…err…"

"REMPs," replied Jamie.

"Yeah, those things," said Graham, "and the chance of a magical power source being invented in our life time is slimmer then getting hit by lighting."

"That's it," exclaimed Jamie standing up fast and knocking her chair back, "the Skin Effect!"

"Jamie, now is not the time to talk about your former career as an exotic dancer," replied Rowe.

"It was _interpretative _dancing for one thing, and the Skin Effect solves the short term problem with the submarines," replied Jamie as she got her chair back up right, Graham leaned over to Harry and muttered 'interpretative of not, doing it topless still counts as exotic to me,' Harry fought hard not to laugh, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Hear what, babe," asked Graham.

Jamie glared at Graham, who tried to look the other way as he pulled at his collar, "Miss. Graham, you've intrigued me with this…err…what did you call it?" asked Minister Fudge.

"It's called the Skin Effect," she replied as Graham snorted, "when lightning hits an enclosed conduit, like a automobile, the charge will travel on the outside or skin of the object, and the motorist is perfectly safe inside, unless he has a window open or a medal pipe hitting the window. If you were to charm all the metal on the outside hull of the submarine to be impervious and unbreakable, it would be able to dock to the station."

"Fortifien Wazzar," corrected Percy.

"Whatever the eff it's called," replied Jamie hotly.

"I believe I was just called here to check the legality of all of this," replied Arthur.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, you were," replied Percy in a tone that made him sound like he didn't acknowledge Mr. Weasley as his father.

"Well, some laws would be broken," replied Arthur, "however, I will…add some amendments to them for this instant."

"Thank you, Arthur," replied Minister Fudge.

"What of an outside attack," asked Halvsey Garder.

"Is that were I come in," asked Amos Diggory.

"Yes, Mr. Diggory," replied Percy.

"Well, a few weeks ago, I was in discussions with the artic Merepeople," replied Amos Diggory.

"Merepeople," replied Ulfhedin, "vhat kind oof circus you running here."

"We have been in friendly relations with the Merepeople for a long time," continued Amos, "and they were quite astonished that we were looking for protection underwater, now I can see why. The coordinates that Percy gave in the beginning, seventy degrees north, ten degrees west. Right between the Greenland Sea and the Norwegian Sea, and only a few miles from the coast of Iceland. It is on the Norwegian Basin underwater, were flat land is plentiful of and there is already an existing artic Mere-town called Nuffink. They have agreed to help us in our endeavors whole heartily, and will protect the outside of Fortifien Wazzar."

"Chow trust vorthy are thes…Nuvvinkians," asked Popov.

"They will not disappoint us," replied Amos, "they are always willing to help us, but this is the first time that they have been given a true chance because of their…ability."

"Da," was all Popov said to Mr. Diggory before he spoke with his assistant in Russian.

"Madam Bones, Mr. Felicis, would you like the floor first," asked Rowe.

"Ladies first," replied Felix Felicis.

"My only assignment was to find and select a crew of two thousand people that would like to serve their country by guarding criminals and get a high pay," said Amelia Bones, "I got the names and signed forms, though if what you said about the housing capacity, Miss. Fisher, this is nothing but a skeleton crew."

"Actually, Madam Bones," said Percy as he looked for confirmation from Fudge, which he got, "that will only be part of the crew. Ministers, if you are in agreement so far with us, we will ask the same thing of you, just two thousand individuals that you need to back check at least three times, and if they pass, a signed form of commitment. This crew would be the main crew for respective nation's prison."

The ministers all nodded their heads, Popov raised his head and asked another question, "vhat of security."

"I believe that is were I come in," replied Rowe, "first, every prisoner will be on solitary lock down in a room that is eight feet by eight feet, seamless walls and ceiling, will full medal doors, viewing holes on top, food tray slot on the bottom. Lights on for twelve hours, lights off for twelve hours. Bare minimum of necessities, irremovable toilet, irremovable bed, everything will be fire proof. Two, required outfit will be shorts and shirt, nothing long or that will have folds, I like to eliminate as many hiding spots as possible. Jamie, is it possible for a gate system in the corridors leading to the buildings?"

"You can use magic in the complex, no problem," replied Jamie.

"Fortifien Wazzar," replied Percy.

Everyone turned to the read head, all saying, "shut up already," in some degree.

"Continuing onwards," said Graham, "I would place a five gate system in all the corridors leading to the prison buildings. The gate you want to open will not unless all the others are closed. The first floor will be totally for prison guards. No wand can pass that point at all, not even on guards. I do not want the off chance of someone slipping a wand to the inmates, even accidentally. In case of emergency, I want a squad of guys that know how to use non magical ways of fighting to subdue the prisoners. I created a list of twenty people that would be willing for such a service, mercenaries that are looking for a long period job, I included myself on the list."

"What is the profit for you," asked Fudge, surprised at Rowe's last comment.

"Steady job for a time with goody pay," replied Rowe, "and I'm the only one that can keep the team together as a unit."

"We'll talk more about this," replied Fudge, his face a beginning to get florid.

"Maybe I should take over now," asked Mr. Felicis.

"Please do, Felix," replied Fudge as he whipped his brow.

"I am the head of the recently reinstated Department of War, for those that don't remember," replied Mr. Felicis, with a little mirth in his voice that cause the others besides Harry to laugh, "the reason of my department's reinstatement should be apparent. You-Know-Who is back, and he has more troops then ever before. He has upped the ante this time, instead of his goal to take over England, he seeks the world, and will go through any means to get it, even attacking a country so as to gain a seat of power there," he looked right at Popov as he said that line, "we can not be on the defensive, it has already cost us dearly, and will come to cost us all even more. With a whole functioning crew, there is still room for eighteen thousand people. These people will be military personal, both fighters and the thinkers. It will be a military command of sorts for all our nations. It is a prime location, between Norway and Greenland, close to Iceland for refueling, transport, and supplies. Easily assessable to Russia and Canada. It would be a prime military base, considering that prison will also hold war criminals, and P.O.W., who we can interrogate in seclusion, out of the eyes of the enemy and public opinion. Fortifien Wazzar would be a true fortress.

"By agreeing to all you have seen and heard today, the six countries here will enter an alliance. If one of us is taken over by You-Know-Who, or in a serious stand still, we six will band our forces together to fight against the common enemy. This bond, this Artic Alliance, will be better for us all," said Felicis, a fervour in his eyes, "the International Confederation of Wizards would take months to deliberate on a course of action. This Alliance will mean immediate and unequivocally help and response to you and your countrymen. We will not lose this war, and we will not go quietly into that dark horizon that is filled with nothing but servitude to a despot."

Felix Felicis was winded and took heavy breaths as he sat down in his seat to get clapped on his shoulder by Graham Rowe and Madam Bones. The rest of the individuals, ministers, aids, and department heads were all clapping. Percy with drew a parchment from his leather attaché case that had been standing next to his chair.

"I believe now is a proper time to sign as any other," said the red head as he held out the already drawn up Artic Alliance Treaty.

"I vill sign," said Ulfhedin Fostolf, "hoowever, I vill not allow two Eenglesh mun to bank roll entire project. I match their donations weeth my personal money."

"As vill I," seconded Popov.

"Me tree," replied Eyvind Hrafnkel, who had not spoke a lot during the meeting, choosing to listen instead.

"I shall noot be left oout," said Halvsey Garder, "part of Fortifien Wazzar es Greenland."

"I feel I shall have to agree with my colleagues," said Jennifer Adams.

"And I have already wrote my check for five million Galleons," said Fudge, Percy looked at his boss for a second, whose right shoulder, Harry saw, was moving up and down in a way that said hand communication was going on under the table.

All the national leaders that were present in the room signed the contract just after signing their names on their individual personal checks, each for five million Galleons. Fortifien Wazzar had a collective total of forty million Galleons for production, though one million Galleons were set aside for the purchase of three submarines. The party of people headed across the way to Fudge's private office where refreshments, including some alcoholic libations, though no Corona, and light food items were served. Harry had shed his robe off at some point in the conference room, he would have to retrieve it later.

He walked over to Graham Rowe and Jamie Fisher, because they were the only ones somewhat close to his age, even though they both could have been his parents, figuratively.

"Interesting day," replied Graham to Jamie as he folded up his button down sleeves and checked his watch, "night I mean," he indicated his watch.

Harry looked at his own, it was 9:07 p.m. already, it seemed the day had gone by so fast. Harry then realized something, besides when he shed his robe in the conference, Graham and Jamie had been the only ones to wear muggle clothing. Both were wearing vests, Jamie's was a brown leather one with tassels that was over her olive shirt and barely reached her khaki pants. Graham was wearing a white shirt with black fabric vest that had may pockets sown into and on it, as well as a knife holder. He was also wearing combat fatigue pants, the ankles tucked into his black dragon hide boots, that had many side pockets as well, and was in tones of grey, white, and blue. Now Harry understood why Graham looked so…cool.

"Like the gear," asked Rowe, noticing that Harry was looking.

"Yea, is that Elite wear," asked Harry.

"Not quite," replied Graham as Jamie sighed and rolled her eyes, "I designed the get up, but the Elites are still wearing robes. They need to test out the muggle style more, better motility and blends in to the larger world."

"Please, Mr. Potter, don't get him started," pleaded Jamie, "once his on the topic of his former life, he won't stop."

"Shall we talk about yours then, babe," asked Graham.

Jamie blushed a little, and Harry tried to help her out, "actually, I'm interested in creation."

"You sure it's not a _certain_ Creator, pal," asked Rowe with a wink.

Harry chuckled, "I'm positive, I rather not steal away your girlfriend."

Rowe and Fisher looked at Harry with narrowed eyes, "We're not going out," they said in unison.

"We did date…"

"For a while…"

"But it's over!"

Harry was about to break down laughing because of the two. He was fighting it so hard that his ribs were hurting. There was a tap on the back if Harry's shoulder that was unexpected. He turned around quickly and put his hands up in a defensive position that Rowe picked out with a keen eye.

It was Mr. Weasley, he didn't flinch at Harry's defensive stance, of which Harry soften to a simple standing. Mr. Weasley looked tired from the long meeting.

"Harry, I just received word from the Headmaster, he would like you back on school grounds immediately, or as before curfew as possible," said the patriarch of the Weasley family.

"No problem Mr. Weasley, I just need to grab my robe and we can head out," replied Harry.

"He has given you permission to floo directly from my office to Gryffindor Common room," said Mr. Weasley.

"I'll be out in a tic," replied Harry to Mr. Weasley, he turned to Graham and Jamie, "it has been a pleasure meeting you both."

"You got some nice moves, Ace," replied Rowe, "perhaps we'll see each other again."

"Have a good night, Harry," replied Jamie, "and if I don't see you again, I wish you well during your time at Hogwarts."

Harry turned to outside corridor and made his way to the conference room. The door was slightly ajar and barely any whispers could be heard from it. Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry whispered '_ex audio_' under his breath and tapped his ear.

"Cornelius it is the only way," said the voice that was clearly Felix Felicis.

"I know, Felix, though I wish it weren't so," replied the Minister.

"We just don't have the numbers," replied Felicis.

"But the Aurors…" the words died on Fudges tongue.

"Will not be enough," replied Felicis, "if what the Order of the Phoenix has told us is true, the only way for us to meet You-Know-Who's number is a draft."

"A draft…that's preposterous…there has never been such a thing in the wizarding world," replied Fudge, "I refuse to force my country to fight."

"Then you force our country to lose," replied Felicis softly, Harry could make out the light sound of footsteps.

"Where are you going, Felix," asked Fudge.

The door opened and the Head of the Department of War looked down at Harry, "care to join us Mr. Potter, and please cancel the Audius Charm on your right ear, so we can speak freely."

Harry canceled the charm and walked into the room. Fudge was sitting at the table, his face red, his brow sweating, a piece of parchment in front of him. A quill was placed in his hand, slowly he signed his name to the document. Felicis had closed the door properly this time.

"What did you hear, Mr. Potter," asked Felicis as he pushed Harry into a chair by his shoulder.

"Nothing really…" replied Harry, "I was just coming to get my robe…"

"True as the last statement may be," Felicis took out a whirling object from his pocket. It was a sneakascope that had a silencing charm on it, so as not to alert others. "Please tell us the truth, Mr. Potter."

"I heard you two talking about…a draft," replied Harry.

Felicis sighed deeply, "Harry, please swear that you will not release such information, I know you are a man of you word. And as such, I will tell you more about the draft, the only thing is, you can not tell anyone."

Again, curiosity getting the better part of him, Harry agreed, "if you tell of this to anyone, in any detail before it is announced publicly, you will be held on counts of treason, punishable by dismemberment. Is that understood?"

"Yes," replied Harry.

"Minister Fudge, you need not be hear for this," said Felicis turning to the Minister, "in fact the less you know about this, the better."

"If the boy stays, I stay," replied Fudge.

Felicis nodded, "What the Minister just signed as you walked in was a release form stating that a draft will begin during the end of July 1997, for all people seventeen to thirty five, dependent on them being out of educational services, not owning a business, not entering a five year training program at St. Mungo's or the three year Auror Academy. Every month, a date will be announced at random, and those born on that day will enter a two month training camp for the Magical Army of Greater England, MAGE for short. Volunteers are welcomed and encouraged, even from outside of Britain and her environs.

"You-Know-Who's force is too great for our Aurors, and those on loan from fellow nations. We need the numbers if we are to make a stand, but this also means that a big portion of the youth of our nation will die as a result. It is unavoidable," said Felicis evenly, "though it is better to die soon, fighting for a cause, then it is to die slowly, wishing you had made a stand."

"What of the families," asked Harry, thinking of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and their reaction if they were to lose one of their children. Mrs. Weasley's he already new from last year's incident with that boggart in Grimauld Place.

"They will know that their son and daughter fought for the right cause and paid the ultimate sacrifice for it," said Felicis.

There was a knock on the door, Felicis being the only one standing answered it. Mr. Weasley walked in and eyed the occupants of the room wearily.

"Ahh, Arthur, do come in," said Felicis with his smile, which Harry now knew was an act, "sit and join us, please."

"I wish I could, Felix," replied Mr. Weasley genuinely, "however, I need to escort Mr. Potter back to Hogwarts. Please get your robe, Harry, we're already late."

Harry picked up his robe and donned it. As he was walking out of the room Felix Felicis held out his hand towards Harry.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Potter," he leaned in close, "and do remember what we talked about, though not with anyone else."

Harry then shook the Minister's hand and walked to the lifts with Mr. Weasley so as to get to the office of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts to get back to Hogwarts. It was a momentous day, Britain, Canada, Russia, Iceland, Greenland and Norway had all become closer allies, teamed to fight against Voldemort. The plans for Fortifien Wazzar were commencing, and construction would begin soon. The most profound thing was that Harry's fear for his friends were coming true, they were all going to have to fight in this war, the Head of the Department of War for Britain had seen to that more than Voldemort could. He needed to start the D.A. again, and soon. _Dear Merlin, _thought Harry, _what is to become of us all._

**

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****A/N:** thank you all for reading, I hope this plot is starting to shape for all of you, though there are more twists and turns down the road, make sure you play close attention, and if need be, take note (I'm just playing with that 'take notes' part). 

The title of this chapter was created by JKR and not me.

Kinder is German for child I think, I hope I'm not mistaken.

Harry is starting to slip some secrets to his friends, it is just to placate them for awhile so he doesn't have to reveal the Prophecy, he feels it is too soon for that big chunk of information to be released.

What some might have forgotten is that Ron and the Weasleys' are now fairly well off thanks to Sirius. Also, seeing his best mate start to lose it from the pressure of too much money, as well as power, doesn't make him jealous at all, he wants to take the load off of Harry's shoulders because he thinks his best mate has suffered way too much. But then again, he doesn't want to suffer from Harry's problem, Ron is finally starting to realize how well off he really has it.

Malfoy is a persistent little ferret. He's equating losing his name to losing his identity, and in truth be told, Malfoy is right. (Think _Roots_)

David Fiore and R. J. H. King are mentioned for a reason. Of the two of them, only R. J. H. King has actually appeared in something Harry Potter World related, such as the first movie's picture of the Gryffindor quidditch trophy meaning that he was around the time of Harry's mum and dad, as well as Sirius and Remus. You have heard of David Fiore's brother from Remus.

The cool female's lines from the Ministry's telephone booth are nearly copied from the _Order of the Phoenix_, as it is a recording.

Halvsey Garder is a play on two farm names from the Old Norse settlement at Greenland, Hvalsey and Garder are both in the Eastern Settlement.

Einar Sokkasson, Eyvind Hrafnkel, Thorgils Holluson, Ulfhedin Fostolf, Hunrod Vatnsdal, and Gudrun are all taken from _The Sagas of Icelanders_, though mixed around a lot.

Vladimir, is taken from the current President of Russia, Vladimir Putin. The name the Magical Federation of Russia is a play on the government name for Russia currently, which is the Federation of Russia.

The Skin Effect is described accurately for a lightning strike on a car.

Jennifer Adams and Eric Warren were names I created from a list of the Top 100 Famous Canadians web site.

I hope I got the characterizations of Graham Rowe and Jamie Fisher done really well, we will see more of them, I promise.

Percy is still a ponce.

Thanks go to Nita for updating chapter 5, it I now easily readable.

The biggest hint does not need to be stated, I hope you all figured it out.

I would like to thank **HarryReader**, **Ansku**, **LunarExcalibur**, and **sirius009** for reviewing the last chapter. I admit that I might not have done my best job in writing it, but I still want to thank you all for reviewing it anyway with inspiring comments. Thank you. And yes, LunarExcalibur, that is pretty much what part of that scene boiled down to, but there is more to see in the future…

Have a good night all, please review.

forfie


	15. Scars

**Disclaimer**: The world of Harry Potter is not owned nor created by me. All right belong to JKR, as well as Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury, and Scholastic. No money is being made from this. Upon July 16th of the year 2005, this story will official becomes Alternate Universe; my only regret is that I could not have completed it before the aforementioned date.

This is the un'beta'd version.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By forfie 

Chapter 15.) Scars

It had been almost a whole week. In that week, Harry had avoided his friends and dorm mates as much as possible. Once in a while during lessons, he found himself drifting off and looking at each and every person in his year, wondering who were going to be alive come a ten year reunion. That is if there was a ten year reunion for Hogwarts alumnae. The news of the draft had been mulling over in his mind equally as much as the Prophecy. Harry would have to have fought in this war no matter the circumstance, but now, his friends were forced there with him. He couldn't face them because he wanted to tell them. However, he did give Felicis his word, and that is one thing he did not want to go back on, it would not be honourable to do so. It wouldn't be knightly.

_And not alerting your friends that their lives are in danger is honourable_, asked a voice in Harry's head that sound reminiscent of his former Potions Professor, _I'm surprised a person as selfish as yourself even has friends, and seeing how you treat them, flummoxes me even more, Potter._

"They…have…another….two years…before it…matters," thought Harry out loud as he was pulling a combination of jabs, hooks and fakes that Dudley had taught him in the summer on the heavy bag that was in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

For the past week it had been his escape, his outlet of pent-up emotion, muddled thoughts and teenage angst. He knew he shouldn't be doing it, what with his hand in the anti-viral and bacterial wrap that was holding it together to heal, but he could care less. It was going on to a month; he felt perfectly fine, just an ache in his hand when there was rain the past two days. He wrapped his hands, both of them, in some cloth that he had charmed to soft on the inside, but not on the outside. Pounding away at the heavy bag that was red and matched the colour of the Liondragon on the wall. Occasionally, Harry would slip from the fighting form of boxing that Dudley had taught him, and combine it with some Muay Thai, a style that he had learned from a book and then refined with the help of Sun Gao. If the heavy bag had been a person, it truly would have been covered by the colour red.

No one ever came in during the time Harry practiced; the main reason was that he practiced at night, around eleven thirty to at least one in the morning, surviving on only three hours of sleep some nights. Though it wasn't a strain for Harry that much because he needed to exhaust himself so that he could sleep at night. The irony lying in that in order to go to sleep and find some peace, Harry opened himself up more to Voldemort's influences.

Harry knew, though didn't quite know how he knew it, that Voldemort could not delve into his memories, and likewise, neither could Harry to the Dark Lord (not that he really wanted to). However, Voldemort was able to instill dreams into Harry, the current one consisting of Liondragon protecting a pedestal that had a basin of sorts on it, which gave off a green misty glow. Harry didn't want to look into the subject matter, assuming that it was another trick to lure him from relative safety. Though one bit of the dream did disturb him, _how does the Liondragon fit in?_

Harry was broken from his contemplation by the light twinkle of his wrist watch, which was a winding time piece that was quite accurate. As such, it was one in the morning, though Harry was not as tired as he should have been. He whipped his sweaty, messy black hair with a white towel that he laid on his shoulders. His tattoos on his shoulders and biceps were showing because of the grey muscle shirt he was wearing. He unfastened the bandages from his hands and stuffed them into the pockets of his olive cargo shorts, which he transformed back into pants by sticking his hand in his side pockets and saying the 'magic' phrase.

"Summer's done."

The salesperson that sold the clothing to Harry had forgotten to mention that when he bought them. He had to find out the hard way, which included saying all the seasons, as well as the months. Just by chance, Harry had just about given up and muttered the right password, to his utter amazement.

Still toweling off his hair, Harry decided to head to the kitchens, fully knowing that with out the Marauder's Map, he might be easy pickings for the patrolling prefects. But having nearly all of the sixth year prefects in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class put Harry at a slight ease; however, there was always the chance to run into Malfoy or Snape. Two hassles Harry could live with out at the moment.

Click of his boots on the castle's tiled ground was soft and echoed through the empty corridors. Flicking his wrist to release his wand from the holster on his right forearm, Harry cast a silencing spell on his boots so as not to alert anyone. He continued the winding walk all the way to the corridor with the painting of a bowl of fruit. Harry was making his way to the portrait when a voice from behind alerted him.

Wand still in hand, Harry turned around and cast a charm that produced a small ball of blue and white fire that did not burn or radiate heat. It was the same spell Remus had used on the Hogwarts Express some three years ago, and was a sixth year level charm that Harry had memorized through a Neurloader. He had Neurloaded the majority of his sixth year, and would be moving on to seventh year material soon. Seeing the familiar face, Harry passed the ball of fire to his free left hand, which gave off and odd glow against the blue anti-viral wrap of his hand. Replacing his wand into his holster, the illuminated face of Harry looked up on the equally illuminated face of Luna Lovegood.

The blue shade made her seem even more out of place then her usual appearance in regular daylight. The blue ball of fire was reflecting in her large, perturbing silver eyes. Her wand was tucked behind her ear, long blonde hair falling around her shoulders and back in a state of calmness and nature. Harry shook his head, _Luna is Hermione's antithesis_, was his only thought.

"Good morning, Harry," said Luna, her eyes seemed to be staring past Harry.

"Err…morning," rejoined Harry in a manner that was half statement, the other half being a question.

"It is after midnight," replied Luna, her eyes not changing from their current position.

"Oh, right…after midnight," replied Harry, "err…Luna…I don't mean to be…nosy…but…why are you out right now?"

"Cho Chang told me that it was my night to patrol the corridors," replied Luna.

_Merlin, _thought Harry exhaustedly, "are you house mates still pouring all the crap on you, Luna?"

Luna looked at her arms and for a second, "no, it doesn't seem that they poured excrement on me today. Though the new day is just beginning, and it is a new school year. Only time will tell."

Harry raised his eyebrow until he was able to get her statement, "err…Luna, I meant did Cho tell you to patrol the halls for…other purposes?"

"I do not believe so, Harry," replied the blonde, "all prefect patrols are for the same purpose, to make sure the student body is safe."

_Prefects_, thought Harry and shook his head, "congratulations, Luna. Why didn't you tell any of us sooner?"

"What would be the need to inform you," asked Luna airily.

"Well…isn't being a prefect a… honour?" asked Harry lamely.

"If you believe so," replied Luna.

"Well…what would it be?" asked Harry in a curious manner, _Luna definitely is Hermione's opposite._

"A title given to individuals, sometimes at random, during their school years that hold no weight outside of said school," replied Luna, "there is more to life than titles."

_Like more to me than being the Boy-Who-Lived,_ thought Harry, "you're right, Luna."

"I would hope not," replied Luna with an earnest look.

Harry not knowing what she meant, decided to move on to another topic, "so…err…how are you doing lately?"

"Everything has been copasetic for me thus far," replied Luna, "though it is easy to tell that it has not been well for you, Harry."

"Err…it has," asked Harry, hoping that his behavior didn't seem off.

"Your shoulders are hunched, as if weighted by secrets," began Luna, as she examined Harry, "your mussels tense at the slightest forward movement; you never look anyone in the eyes; you sweat more; stay up to all hours of the night; and you have been tattooing your body to a point that it is almost like desecration of a temple."

"How do you know all of this," asked Harry.

"My eyes," replied Luna easily.

"Your…your _eyes_," asked Harry perplexed.

"Is there something in them," asked Luna dreamily, "no matter, I have another one."

This again left Harry perplexed, "Luna, I'm not going to deny your…observations. However, the tattooing is not a desecration of my body."

"Then why would you have the names of dead Death Eaters on your biceps," asked Luna simply.

"It's hard to explain," replied Harry, not really wanting to get into it, and considering he still hadn't told his closest friends.

"You think of them more then your godfather," it was a simple statement that made Harry's chest muscles tighten.

It was true, Harry did think of the ten people he had killed. He thought of them a lot. More so then he thought of Sirius, and it shamed him. He wanted to think of Sirius now, but couldn't bring himself to do it. It wouldn't be honest to his memory of Sirius. Sighing, Harry dropped his shoulders even more.

"Luna, are you going to take some points from my house or give me a detention," asked Harry, changing the subject.

"No," replied Luna, "I just wanted to talk with you because I wanted to."

"I think I'm going to go to bed," replied Harry.

"Warm milk," replied Luna as she walked away, "it's what my dad use to give to me to get me to sleep after mum died."

The blonde disappeared into the darkness that fell outside of the circle surrounding the blue flame. Harry silently cried hot tears of anger. Anger at himself for trying to forget Sirius, for thinking more of himself and the people he had killed. He whipped them away with his right hand furiously until he had stopped. He reached out and tickled the green pear, which turned into a door knob that led to the kitchens of Hogwarts.

He got about two feet into the kitchens before his legs were almost knocked out from underneath him. The giant green tennis ball eyes of Dobby looked up to Harry, the house elf embracing his legs tighter then a vice. Dobby was wearing a cerulean blue sweater vest with orange bicycle shorts, lime green socks that covered most of his legs, and a modge podge of different coloured hats Hermione had made last year. Harry was swaying around because he couldn't a good footing.

"Harry Potter, so long Dobby has waited to see his friend again," replied the house-elf in a high pitched voice.

"Sorry…err…sorry that I didn't come by sooner, Dobby," replied Harry, "um…do you mind if I can get my legs back."

"Dobby is so sorry, Harry Potter," replied the house-elf as he let go and walked back a bit, not trying to inflict any harm on himself, which was a clear improvement from the house-elf's usual behavior that Harry welcomed. "Can Dobby be of assistance, Harry Potter?"

"Err…some warm milk might be nice," replied Harry, not really liking asking for things from his friends.

Dobby clicked his fingers and another house-elf appeared, a smaller one that had a football shaped head, "how may Bushy be of assistance, Sir Dobby," it asked.

"Harry Potter would like a glass of warm milk, Bushy," replied Dobby as Bushy's large eyes widened, mouth dropping, as he glance at Harry for an instance before disappearing to get Harry his warm glass of milk.

Harry looked at Dobby, "Sir Dobby," he asked slightly confused.

The house-elf blushed, "Harry Potter does not have to call me such."

"I was just wondering why," replied Harry.

"Dobby was the only one that was able to fight against She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Uttered," replied the house-elf.

"She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Uttered?"

Dobby leaned forward, a hand covering his mouth as he tried to whisper in his squeaky voice, "Umbridge."

All the house-elves in a ten foot radius stopped still and tried to hiss the name out of there ears for two seconds before they went back to work.

"How were you able to fight Umb…," Harry had to stop as the rest for the house-elves hissed again, "err…She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Uttered?"

"Dobby is free house-elf, normal rules don't apply to Dobby," replied the house-elf.

"What about Winky," asked Harry.

"Winky has not been good, Harry Potter," replied Dobby, "and Winky refused to fight against an old and honourable pureblood family. Winky still believes that she serves the Crouches, Harry Potter."

_Oh_, thought Harry as he got his milk and sat down at the wooden table five house-elves produced for him, there was another seat for Dobby, "please, take a seat, Dobby."

Dobby's eyes watered muttered 'great wizard, Harry Potter, great wizard,' before he sat down across the table for Harry.

"Dobby, I was wondering, could house-elves get almost anything," asked Harry, his thoughts trailing back to his vacation.

"Most certainly, Harry Potter, house-elves are very reliable," replied Dobby proudly.

"Well…there is this muggle drink called Corona," replied Harry.

"House-elves can retrieve it, Harry Potter, it will be no problem," replied Dobby enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Dobby," replied Harry as he finished off his warm milk and put his head in his hands and sighed deeply, _maybe that will help me get to sleep easier._

"Is something the matter, Harry Potter," asked Dobby concerned.

"Everything," replied Harry seriously, "but I can't say any of it, that's the worst part."

Dobby nodded his head in understanding, he had to keep secrets too when he severed the Malfoy family, "perhaps, Dobby can be of assistance."

"Thanks, Dobby, but I don't think…," Harry fell silent as he recollected that Dobby had been the one to show him the Room of Requirement, the former meeting room of the D.A. "Dobby, do you remember how you helped me last year?"

"Yes, Dobby remembers that he showed Harry Potter the Come and Go Room," replied the elf enthusiastically.

"I need your help in the same area again," replied Harry.

"Another Come and Go Room," asked Dobby.

"Not exactly," replied Harry, "the Room of Requirement has been…banned by Headmaster Dumbledore. I need a new room, where a good number of people can practice spells and…defense in general. I need to start the D.A. again, my friends, everyone in this school are in…danger."

"D-d-danger? Is Harry Potter certain," asked Dobby, Harry nodded, "then it is Dobby's duty to the Headmaster to help. Yes, yes…no, no, no."

"Dobby," asked Harry, reaching out to steady his friend.

"There is a place, Harry Potter," replied Dobby shakily, "I warned of it in Harry Potter's second year. It is too…dark…of a place for friends of Harry Potter."

"That doesn't matter Dobby, we just…I just…need a place were no one could intrude upon us," said Harry, "please, Dobby, I…I need your help."

Dobby's eyes started to tear, "never…never…has a wizard said he _needed_ Dobby's help. Great wizard, Harry Potter, great wizard."

The house-elf sighed, "it is a dark place, where we elves will not tread. It housed a…_monster_ that was feared by all. The only other person, besides Harry Potter, to willingly travel into the room was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The only place that Hogwarts offers Harry Potter and his friends with complete protection, is not in Hogwarts, no. The only place is…is…the Chamber of Secrets."

The idea hit Harry like a tonne of bricks. _The only way to get in is by a password in Parseltongue, and I'm the only known parselmouth in Hogwarts. The room is big enough. Far from detection. And the girl's loo on the second floor is the last place anyone would look for a secret defense group._ Thought the young raven haired teen.

"Dobby, you are a genius," replied Harry as the house-elf blushed at the compliment, then other realizations hit Harry, "what about getting in and out…the last time Fawkes was needed to pull me, Ron, Ginny and Lockhart out."

"Firebird is not option for Harry Potter, his Wheezy or other friends," replied Dobby before his snapped his fingers.

Bushy the house-elf appeared out of thin air again, "how can Bushy be of service, Sir Dobby," asked the little house-elf.

"Oh, dear Dobby," replied Harry's friend, "forgive Dobby, I's did not mean to call upon Bushy."

"Nothing to forgive, Sir Dobby," replied Bushy as he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

"Err…what were you going to say, Dobby," asked Harry.

"House-elves, Harry Potter, house-elves," replied Dobby, "we build and maintain. Dobby knows how to build, Harry Potter, and can make moving stairs."

"Like an escalator," asked Harry.

Dobby nodded vigorously, but then started to shake his head, "it is dark place….darker then Dobby's former family…Dobby does not want to go down there."

"Dobby, there is no one else I could trust with this," replied Harry, looking at his conflicted friend.

"Dobby will do it for Harry Potter," replied the house-elf.

"Not Harry Potter," replied the teen, "do it for your friend."

"F-f-friend," replied Dobby, his eyes watering, "yes, Dobby shall help his…friend."

"Is there anything I can do to help," asked Harry.

"Dobby will get materials in two weeks time. Dobby does wish for…friend, Harry Potter, to come down to Chamber of Secrets with him. Dobby does not want to go alone."

"I will go with you, Dobby, my friend," replied Harry.

The house-elf trying to hold back tears, Harry had a distinct feeling of overstaying his welcome. He bid Dobby, as well as the other house-elves good morning, and walked away from the kitchens. It was nearing three in the morning, and Harry knew he wouldn't get any sleep, so he started on his morning run, getting a few extra laps in before everyone else.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Harry was sitting at the table in the Great Hall the next day, a letter from Tony Raven's owl on the table next to his plate. He hadn't opened it because of what he feared it would say. Ron was trying to get Harry into a conversation about quidditch, while Hermione was trying to get him into a conversation of the multiple meanings of Sun Gao's phrases. Harry was enjoying the show as his friends tried to compete against each other, while he remained silent. With Dobby's help, a part of the weight that was holding down Harry was lifted.

The knowledge of the draft was still pretty heavy, but at least now he was able to do something to help his friends along the way. The major thing that was still resting on his shoulders, like the world did for Atlas, was the Prophecy. _Is this Half-Blood Prince part of the Prophecy, is this my power against Voldemort,_ he questioned himself, _you have to tell them sometime, Potter, but will they understand it?_

He looked at his two friends still battling to gain his attention and it brought a smile to his face. They really cared about him and he was happy in this moment. Harry then thought, _maybe another time would be better to tell them._

Someone cleared their throat behind Harry. He turned around to see Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house, staring down at him.

"Excuse the interruption, Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger," replied the tight hair bun wearing professor, "but I need to borrow Mr. Potter for a moment. Please follow me, Mr. Potter."

Harry got up and followed his head of house. He had no clue what he could have done, he thought he had been fairly in the laws of Hogwarts for the past week or so (barring all that was down in the Defense Against the Dark Arts room). The walk to McGonagall's office was the same now as it was for the past five years.

"Err…Professor, am I in trouble?" asked Harry.

"I am not the one you should be asking, Mr. Potter," replied the stern witch, "I will assuage some of your fear in telling you that this meeting is not between you and I."

"Then why do I have to go to your office if it is not for punishment," asked Harry.

McGonagall looked at Harry, her gaze a notch softer than her usual stern look, "is that how you see my office, a place for punishments?"

"Err…no…but…it is…common," replied Harry, hoping he didn't offend his head of house.

McGonagall just put on her stern mask again, "you have three visitors that are here to discuss private business matters from what I'm told," she said as the approached the door to her office. She stopped just before it, "proceed without me, it is your private business after all, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you Professor McGonagall," replied Harry.

"Your welcome, Mr. Potter," she replied as she walked away, "and don't forget to visit Madame Promfrey in a few days for your hand. I dear say, Gryffindor needs it's star seeker back in working order if we are to ever win the Quidditch Cup again."

She walked down the hall way as the door was opened by a being that was a little over four feet high.

"Mr. Potter, do come in," said Griphook as he backed his way into the room, "Messers Cripps and Kelpurn are already seated."

"Griphook, why are you here," asked Harry as he stepped into McGonagall's office, "not that I'm not glad to see you."

"I understand, Mr. Potter," replied the goblin, "if you remember in my letter, which I sent out a week ago, the 28th, being as it is the 28th of the month of September today, we were all suppose to have a meeting. May I please introduce you to Shea Devlin Cripps and Graham Kelpurn."

"Cripps th' name, money's th' game, ladies's me hobby an' private business is me lobby," replied a young man in rhythmic form of speech. Shortly cropped dark brown hair and eyes and button nose. He had a real boyish face and the demeanor of someone that liked to play sports and fool around, while still being good at his work. He wore casual robes, a key sign to the casual person Mr. Shea Devlin Cripps really was.

"Oh, must insist on your petulant rhyming games," moaned the darker haired man next to him. His hair was neatly combed, a part in the middle, and a clean shaven face. He was wearing a brown double breasted suit with a tan robe that matched his tan Oxford shirt. He was crisp and looked to cut shaper than a blade of a Katana. "Graham Kelpurn, it is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter."

"Always so stiff, you great piff," replied Cripps, "it's a casual occasion, so be a little brazen."

"Dear, Merlin," moaned Kelpurn, "do you even know what brazen means, Mr. Cripps."

"Oooh, please Graham, if we are to work together, refer to me as Shea," said Cripps.

"Please refer to me hence forth as Mr. Kelpurn," replied the lawyer.

"And not honey bear, like you asked me to last night," replied Cripps.

"Gentleman, can we please move onto more business related ventures," asked Griphook, Harry tried to hide his smile as he sat next to the goblin.

"What, exactly, is this business," asked Kelpurn, Harry laid out the explanation that Fred and George had told him over the summer.

"In essence, Mr. Cripps and I will be handling all the legalities," asked Kelpurn.

"That is where your expertise lie," replied Griphook, "however, your salaries will be considered high, and both of you would reside on this managerial board and provide ideas for this corporation."

"I think it sounds like a bloody brilliant idea," replied Cripps as he hit some papers onto the table, "and reviewing these income ratios for one month alone, I have to say very profitable. I do have one problem though."

"Yes," asked Griphook.

"Well, I rather not work for a company that has a stupid acronym for a name," replied Cripps, "there is enough of that in the government."

"My problem goes along the lines of governmental interference," replied Kelpurn.

"I think I can handle this," replied Harry, Griphook nodded, "the name we can work on later. There is a title I would like to use… it would encompass the ingenuity…integrity and…mystery…that I would like applied to this company. It is also something that connected me to the creators of this idea, though in a circuitous manner. And as for your worries, Mr. Kelpurn, they have already happened, and I have taken care of them…I wish I could tell you more, but the project was sworn to secrecy."

"Understood, Mr. Potter," replied Kelpurn.

"That's my problem," continued Harry, "please, anyone that works for…_with_ me, should call me Harry."

"Gladly," replied Mr. Cripps, Mr. Kelpurn had a conflicting look on his face, "but, do tell Harry, what is this company's name."

"That is also something I am wondering," said Griphook, "I rather stop filling out forms for this company as 'untitled'."

"Granted, all of you have to approve of it, as well as Lee, Fred and George, all of them being on the council. I'd like to name this organization, Marauders Incorporated."

"Hold up…Harry," said Kelpurn, his hand on his chin in a ponderous position, "isn't it quite negative…to refer to this company as…_looters_."

"It is the name of a group of friends the went to Hogwarts in the early seventies, which consisted of my father, James Potter, my godfather, Sirius Black, and my surrogate uncle, Remus Lupin," said Harry, completely omitting Wormtail from the Marauders, "I found out about their connection in my third year through a map that was given to me by Fred and George Weasley. It does not matter to me, if the name is ominous. It has more meaning to it. It means that this company will be all inclusive. All races will be accepted equally."

"I for one have to agree with Mr. Potter," replied Griphook, "I like the name and what it stands for."

"Seconded," replied Cripps, "it's a good name, different. I wouldn't mind being known as a looter."

Kelpurn rolled his eyes at Cripps comment, "I agree also, but not because of the others reasons. I was Sirius' attorney, I wouldn't be able to turn that name down with that knowledge."

"Thank you," replied Harry.

"Now…you said all races…" replied Kelpurn, "does that include muggle?"

"Yes," replied Harry, "I recently obtained some information about an item that may be beneficial for the magical world that is being created by a muggle company in the States."

"Genius," replied Kelpurn, "did you know, Harry, that buy having an ownership in anther country, you would be only required to international law. Legal system that is much weaker then that enforced federally."

"Really?" asked Harry.

"Yes," replied Kelpurn.

"If you give me the information, I could look into it," replied Cripps, "what should the offer be?"

"Ten million," replied Harry coolly.

"Ten _million_ galleons," exclaimed Cripps.

"No, not galleons," said Harry, "pounds…or…what do the Yanks call them…dollars."

Cripps nodded his head. The meeting then turned mostly into review of the business ventures Harry had already undertaken. Griphook told Harry that he was supposed to be present at the opening of Fairy Tails on Halloween night, and that as his manager, he was going to inform Dumbledore for him. After all, the Order of the Phoenix was going to be in attendance because it was a venture of their own also. Griphook thought it would be no problem, and Harry had to agree with him, though the teen thought it was being a bit pushy for Griphook to also recommend that several of his friends attend.

Ω∞†∞Ω

It had been a whole month. A whole month, ever since the attack on Platform 9 ¾, that Harry's hand had been wrapped in a blue film that made sure no virus or bacteria could enter his healing wound. The black cords that held his fingers and palm together, were to be removed first. It should be fully healed, he had waited the month that Healer Johnson told him to. Harry would be happy to be rid of this…glove, even if it meant he had a scar. _Another scar_, thought Harry, _just what I need, though a small price to pay._

"Mr. Potter, this is even a record for you," replied Madam Pomfrey as she cut away the first cord with her wand, freeing his ring finger from his pinky finger, "injured before you step foot on school property," she removed the next cord that wrapped his index finger and middle fingers together. "Try moving your fingers, is there any numbness or tingling sensation?"

Harry flexed his fingers, "no numbness, or tingling. Though it does feel tight."

"That's to be expected," replied the nurse as she removed the cord that held Harry's palm together, "the muscles in your fingers are switching back to they way they were primarily used. Healer Johnson did a good job with your hand, I probably wouldn't have been able to work with it," conceded Madam Pomfrey as she unrolled the blue plastic wrap that had been around Harry's hand for a month.

In the middle of Harry's hand, both the back of it as well as the palm, was a black square where the iron spike had entered Harry's hand. From the square, a jagged black line that was about the thickness of a pencil lead upwards through the area between his middle and ring fingers. A similar jagged line also went from the bottom of the square to his wrist, meeting directly at the cuff. The scar was black and very noticeable against Harry's tanned skin. The image from the back of the hand was mirrored on the palm.

Harry clenched and unclenched his hand into a fist, causing the scar to stretch and elongate. Harry sighed deeply. His eyes never left his hand. _At least I have my hand back in full working order,_ he thought,_ whether if it his blemished should not matter_.

"The scarring is permanent, I'm afraid," replied Madam Pomfrey. "Though you should consider yourself lucky, Mr. Potter. If it weren't for Healer Johnson, you might have lost your hand. I just need to perform some tests, your hand, if you will, Mr. Potter."

Harry gave Pomfrey his scarred left hand, she waved her wand around and tapped it against his fingers, "do you feel anything odd, Mr. Potter?"

"No," replied Harry.

She then circled her wand around his hand and taped his black scar. There was a pin prick of pain in the square of his scar, "do you feel anything odd, Mr. Potter?"

Harry, just wanting to get out of the hospital wing as fast as possible, "no, may I go Madam Pomfrey."

The nurse sighed, "you will not lift anything heavy or over exert yourself for at least a week. If at _any_ time you feel something odd, you are to see me right away."

"Thank you," said Harry as he dashed out of the hospital wing as fast as he could, Madam Pomfrey was yelling something to him, but he decided not to listen. He had his hand back, in full working order that meant one thing really in Harry's mind. The one thing that would be happening tonight: quidditch.

That's what the nights practice brought Harry. Out on the pitch felt different for Harry. the rest of the team was waiting on the ground. It was the first time since he had punched Malfoy after winning a game that Harry had stepped foot on to the pitch as a player. Well, relatively he was a player, being the back up for injuries and removals. It was different, though, to be on a pitch as a coach, like what he had to do with Abercrombie for the past month.

Gripping his Firebolt, which he had borrowed back from Abercrombie for just one night, Harry mounted the broom. Taking a deep breath, Harry shot up in the air. He screamed in exhilaration the whole way up, the air rushing through his messy black hair making him feel free. Higher and higher he climbed, until he stopped, looking down at the little specs that were his team mates. Harry was ecstatic, he was able to fly again.

A cloud passed by above Harry. Holding onto the handle with his right hand, Harry edged his broom downward in a steep dive. Using his left hand to steady himself, Harry threw back both arms, spread wide. Wind passing by him as he shouted in joy, tears forming in his eyes from both happiness and the wind that was battering him. He approached the ground faster and faster.

Before he would have hit, Harry grabbed the handle of the broom with his right hand and decelerated by leveling out and turning himself upside down, his scarred left hand's finger tips skimming the grass. He heard the others clapping, cheering and whistling through the beat of the blood rushing through his head as he passed by them. He righted himself and turned around to hover in front of everyone. Both hands on the Firebolt.

"Thought we had a quidditch practice," Harry asked with an amused face, the corners of his mouth upturned.

"We were supposed to practice," replied Katie as she looked at the rest of the team, "but I think this calls more for a celebration, don't you say lads?"

"Lads," questioned Ginny with a raised eye brow, "last time I checked, Katie, we were both girls."

"And what better girls to play with," said Jack Sloper as he slapped both of their shoulders.

"If you know what's good for you, Sloper, get your meathook off my sister," said Ron, though Harry could tell Ron didn't have anything against Jack when he looked into his eyes, it was just older brother protection syndrome.

"Sorry there, Keeper King," replied Jack as he stepped back.

"That actually gave me a good idea," thought Katie out loud.

"What, Keeper King," asked Ron.

"No, meathooks," replied Katie, and seeing all of their confused looks, she tapped Ron on the chest and flew away shouting, "You're it!"

Everyone else on the team began to scatter into the air as Ron stayed on the ground in a daze. Then it hit him, as it also hit Harry, that Katie had just started a game of tag. And Ron was 'it'.

Ron shot up into the air and looked at Harry, the closest person to him. Harry turned as fast as he could, speeding away from Ron. Ron, on his Cleansweep 11 was no where near as fast as Harry could be on his Firebolt. Harry would have outstripped him if he was going full out. Or if he was flying straight.

Harry was jerking around on his broom horribly. The only time it had been worse was when Quirrell had jinxed his broom. Swaying around, cork screwing, and bumping up and down, Harry almost lost his grip on the broom. Held on tighter with both hands, which seemed to make it worse. The vibration from the handle caused Harry's hands to go numb. Not expecting it, Harry didn't have a good grip with his knees and he dropped forward, off of his broom, plummeting through the air. Faster and faster, he fell through the air.

Luckily, Ron was right behind him and he raced forward after his friend, catching him by the waist and lowering themselves to the ground. The whole team landed with them, Andrew Kirke had retrieved Harry's Firebolt. Ron was helping him up, brushing his shoulders off.

"You alright, mate," asked Ron.

"I…I…what happened," asked Harry, flexing his left hand.

"That's what we wanted to know," asked Katie.

"Harry, is your hand alright," asked Ginny, "you're flexing it a lot."

"It's…it's…," Harry looked down at his hand and the black scar that bisected it, "I…I…dunno."

Katie furrowed her eyebrows, unconsciously she played with her ponytail in thought before she sighed heavily, "Harry, I think you should go see Madam Pomfrey."

"I'll take him," replied Ron, guiding Harry to the castle before he could get a word in.

They walked silently to the castle through the darkening grounds. Harry noticed the sidelong looks Ron was giving him. Harry sighed and stopped Ron at the entrance of the courtyard.

"Ron, either stop looking at me like that, or ask the question," said Harry.

"Well…erm…it's just…me and Hermione are kinda…worried about you," said Ron, his ears going red slightly in the dim light. "You've…Harry, you've been avoiding us, ever since that trip a few weeks ago. We want you back."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there…but…I'm getting some help with that particular problem," said Harry, thinking about how Dobby was going to help him, "I'll spend more time with you both, I promise. I…need your help."

Ron put his hand to Harry's forehead, "you sure you're alright, mate? You normally never ask for help."

Harry laughed and pushed Ron's hand away, "I'm starting the D.A. up again."

"Yea," asked Ron as he pushed the doors opened and they walked in, "is still in the…you know…room."

"Ron' you know we can't," replied Harry, "and besides, I've found a new place, with some help of course."

"Dumbledore," asked Ron.

"He refused to help," replied Harry, Ron looked at him oddly, "I refused to have the D.A. be an official club, so his hands were tied because of a vow he made to the staff. It's not his fault, I just made a choice were he couldn't help us."

"And if we had official status," asked Ron as they both walked to the hospital wing.

"Then we would have to let people like Malfoy in if they wanted to join," replied Harry.

"I think you made the right choice," replied Ron, "specially if we can block those Slytherin's from joining."

"Not all of them," replied Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"Dumbledore asked me to invite two people in to the group that were Slytherins," said Harry.

"But Dumbledore doesn't have any say," replied Ron.

"True…but, I want to keep the number that we had last year," said Harry, "so we have five people to replace."

"Seven," replied Ron.

"Five, Ron, I've checked the list," replied Harry.

"Seven, don't forget Cho little traitorous friend," replied Ron.

"Cho was sticking up for friend," replied Harry, "like I would do for you, and Dumbledore…asked for Marietta to be welcomed back."

"But she's a traitor, Harry," replied Ron, "she'll rat on us again."

"I don't think so," replied Harry, then tried to change the topic, "I'm more worried about the others Dumbledore wants us to add."

"Who are they," asked Ron.

"Zabini, Davis, Fawcett, Turpin," replied Harry.

"There were others, weren't there," asked Ron.

"Yea…but they definitely aren't getting invited to join," replied Harry.

Ron nodded and opened the door for the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey exited from behind the curtains of a bed. She looked at the two teens and sighed heavily.

"Not even a day, and you are already back to see me, Mr. Potter," said the nurse exasperatedly, "what did you do know, fall from five hundred feet while trying to catch the snitch?"

"Almost," mumbled Ron as the nurse forced Harry into the bed, "Madam Pomfrey, he almost fell to his death as he was riding his broom."

Madam Pomfrey grimaced and whipped out her wand. She then noticed Harry was flexing his hand, "does it hurt, Mr. Potter."

"Not hurt, just…still getting used to it," replied Harry.

"Understandable, please give me you're hand and tell me if there is _any_ feeling that is unusual," said the nurse as she waved her wand and touched Harry's scar.

The pin prick of pain was still there, though it felt a bit bigger now, "yea, in the center of the scar," said Harry.

Madam Pomfrey muttered another spell, this one showed a purple cord that looked to be twisted. She sighed and shook her head, looking into Harry's eyes.

"Something disrupted the healing process, Mr. Potter," said the nurse, "a tendon, while it was healing, seems to have wrapped it's self around the third metacarpal. The point of entrance was the trickiest part, said Healer Johnson, because he practically had to reconstruct it all and quickly too."

"What…what does this mean," asked Harry.

"It will be normal for most anything," replied Madam Pomfrey, "except, the tendon movement is face outwards threw the palm. This will interfere with…flying on a broom, specially a Firebolt, due to it's sensitivity to the rider."

"So…I can't fly…at all," asked Harry, Ron had a hand on his shoulder.

"You can not fly with your left hand on a broom," replied the nurse.

Ron squeezed his shoulder tightly and Harry fought back tears. He didn't want to cry, even in anger, in front of his best friend. There was a moan from behind the curtain that Madam Pomfrey had come from before. She apologized and returned to the student behind the curtain. Harry and Ron soon left for their common room, neither told Hermione exactly what had happened. There were something you don't share with someone that wouldn't understand, Ron knew flying, Hermione didn't. Harry was going to have to adjust to not being able to fly. _No_, thought the teen as he laid to rest for the night,_ I will not give up, not this, not flying. Why does it always seem to happen to me?_

Ω∞†∞Ω

For twelve days, Harry tried to practice flying. And always, when he put his left hand on the handle of his broom, he spun out, wobbled and on several occasions, fell over ten feet to the pitch ground. He always got up, retrieved his broom and came back the next day to try again. And again. And eventually, again. Every single time, he would get back up and try again.

Saturday the 12th of October rolled around, again there was no progress in Harry's ability to fly. He was walking into the castle when a small being opened the door for Harry.

"Harry Potter, Dobby has retrieved the materials and is wondering if now is a good time to visit Chamber of Secrets," said Dobby in his high pitched voice.

Harry looked at Dobby, then around at the empty hall ways, "sure, I just need to store my broom," said Harry.

"Firebolt may be needed, Harry Potter," said the house-elf as he started to walk to the second floor girls bathroom.

"Do all house-elves know where the Chamber is?"

"We do now, Harry Potter, thanks to you," replied Dobby as he opened the door, clicking his fingers so that an 'out of order' sign appeared.

Harry stepped into the girl's toilet and looked at the damp floors, and empty stalls. It had been a long time since he had last been there. The silence, minus Dobby's heavy breaths, meant that Myrtle was currently not there. Harry walked over to the last tap, looking at the 'S' bend with the snake etched on it, Harry had to try two times before he was able to hiss 'open' in parseltongue. The entrance of the Chamber of Secrets had been opened again for the first time four years.

Dobby's body was shaking as he climbed onto the Firebolt, Harry right behind him, holding the house-elf with his left hand. Harry sent some orbs of light head of them so that they could slowly hover down into the room. The pipes were dirty, and slowly flying down them, helped keep Dobby and Harry clean. They both landed on the ground with two feet. Harry conjured a wooden torch, a technique he learned from neurloading some seventh year material. He lit it on fire to illuminate the stone dug out of that Ron had made through the collapse several years ago. Harry stepped forward, crushing animal bones under his grapehorn boots.

"Okay, looks like lighting will be need, as well as cleaning up all these bones," said Harry, "and making a easy walk through passage or arch or something."

"It can be done Harry Potter," replied Dobby.

Harry turned around to look at Dobby, "are you alright?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, Dobby is fine," replied the house-elf shakily.

"You said something about stairs," continued Harry.

"Dobby can make it so," replied the house-elf.

"Can we get the door to this bathroom be password operated," asked Harry as he tried to make his way through the small opening between the rocks.

"Dobby believes so, but all passwords must be approved by the Headmaster," said the house-elf as they walked forward.

The gigantic doors that were embellished by two snakes intertwining and facing each other were cast in the light of the torch. 'Open' hissed Harry and the two gigantic snakes fell from each other as the doors separated. The light from the torch shined into the cavernous room that was the Chamber of Secrets. The middle path was lit, pools of water surrounding the pillars that were left standing of to the right and left. The occasional pillar spilled outward across the path, crumbled and destroyed.

Harry walked forward, Dobby closely behind him. The foot of Slytherin's statue slowly became illuminated, until the monkey face of Hogwarts' most notorious founder. At his feet, a sixty foot monster that he hid in this very chamber some thousand years ago in an effort to keep his fight continuing. That monster, the basilisk, was nothing but taught skin and bones, the majority of it had rotted away, the putrid stench of decay lingering in the air.

"The basilisk remains need to go," said Harry, he could feel Dobby nod behind him, "do you think you can get rid of that statue?"

"Rid of, Harry Potter," asked Dobby, "no, Dobby can not. But Dobby can cover it."

"Sounds good to me," replied Harry, "I'll you decide what to do."

"Should Dobby get rid of broken pillars?" asked the house-elf.

"No, keep a few," said Harry, _it might be adventitious to keep a few_.

"Harry Potter, Dobby has one request," asked the house-elf, Harry nodded, "can we leave?"

"Yes, Dobby," replied Harry, "lets leave this place, this old Chamber of Secrets, we have a new one to forge."

**

* * *

****A/N**: Sorry I have missed the past few weeks. I've just have been really busy with my summer job and some parties. It's a bad excuse, but there is also more to it. In light of the 6th book coming out, and the subsequent AU this fic will become. I wish I could have gotten this out faster, but alas, I did not. My major problem comes from a friend of mine. She/he had received a copy of the 6th book early because his/her father owned a book store. At a party, I was told some of the secrets, nothing major, just a lot of little things. I won't say anything, so as not to wreck the book for you, but this information has really made me…go into judgment of what I have written thus far. You know what I say though? I'm gonna continue this fic the way I see fit, and not let the 6th book sway me, though I might incorporate some of the upcoming book in the next fic. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, please forgive the shortness. 

I didn't forget about Tony Raven's letter, I just think that it will be more fitting for the next chapter which will have lots of quidditch, along with a party.

The idea of Harry's scarred left hand comes from the movie series _El Mariachi_, which is a set of movies including _El Mariachi, Desperado_ and _Once Upon a Time in Mexico._

The third metacarpal is the bone in the hand that leads to the middle finger, and is the center of the palm.

The visions implanted by Voldemort to Harry are important.

Marauders Incorporated, eh?

Check out Chapter 6 again, Nita has updated it.

I would like to thank **Ansku, xemplar, James Rendle, Dragon'sSword, **and the slightly overzealous, **HarryReader**. Thank you all for reviewing, and in some cases, reviewing several times, enjoyed them all. Dragon'sSword, I actually haven't played Jade Empire, but Sun Tzu is a great stagiest, I highly suggest reading the _Art of War_, it will make you think of a lot of things differently. There are no pairing right now, sorry. Harry is not looking for anyone on a long term basis, and Ginny and Hermione are not options for him (to close to being family), and I see Luna as being the odd friend you get great advice from, not a love interest. So, the current pairing is…none. As for the fighting ability, brought up by HarryReader, goes as follows:

Scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the worst, 10 the best  
Mad-Eye is a 7, Sun Gao is a 9.5, Dumbledore is a 10, Voldemort is a 10.3 (because of his dark arts use), Graham Rowe is an 8.5. This includes physical fighting and magical power put together in one category.

Thank you all for reading. I hope you are all having a good summer.

Forfie.


	16. Head Hunter Harry

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, the title, anything at all. And if you think I do, then you are either stupid or have been living under a rock for the past 9 years.

This is the un'beta'd form.

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By Forfie

Chapter 16.) Head-Hunter-Harry

"Blithering…Bitch…Buggerin'…Arse…Muthafucka!" Swore the bedraggled teenage boy that was Harry Potter as he threw his trademark _Firebolt_ broomstick onto the changing room floor. He slammed himself into a sitting position onto the wooden bench, his clothing that was saturated with sweat making a smacking sound. He pounded his fist, still in his seeker gloves, on to the bench hard, and then cupped his head in his hands. Looking at his left hand, his curse scared hand, the rage and injustice built up once again. He stood up and started straight jabbing with his left hand into the metal door lockers, causing some serious dents with ever punch.

It had been a week since his check up with Madame Pomfrey, from whom he found out he would not be able play quidditch ever again. The one few joys Harry had in his life seemed to be ripped asunder just as that blasted Death Eater had ripped his hand asunder. Harry had tried, and tried again, but he was not able to use two hands on his broom or even just his left hand. And as a right handed seeker, it was devastating. This is where we find our little (well, average height in truth) protagonist, he had just came back from his third week of consecutive failure of two handed flight, and as even the best of us would behavior in a similar situation, Harry Potter was raging to the point of invoking some serious pain…on himself.

"Why does it always happen to me," said Harry as he started to undo the bindings from the gloves on his hands; his knuckles had small cuts on them and there was some blood spread on the dented locker door. Harry flicked out his wand, repaired and cleaned the door, so that it resembled something like its previous form.

Changing out of his clothes, Harry prepared to take a shower. Towel secured around his hips, the sixteen year old started to make way for the showers when he heard a dry cough from behind him. Harry, out of growing instinct in this escalating time of war, jumped for his wand. Grabbing it from his pile of clothes he turned to where he thought the cough came from and saw….

"It won't do you no good," drawled a pearly white image of a young man with sideburns and a Howard Cosell hairdo floating in mid air, "haven't had a body to curse for nearly…thirty years now."

"Who…what…why the bloody hell were you in hear while I was changing?"

"To answer your questions in order, my name is Edgar Clogg, I am apparently a ghost," drawled said pearly white apparition in an announcer like voice, "and I have the play of the century, my lad."

"Whatever you're sellin'," said Harry in a huff, "I don't plan on buying. I just want to take my shower and be on my way."

"I respect that kid," said Edgar the ghost, "you got spunk, that's a good thing."

"I'm gonna take a shower, please don't follow me," said Harry as he turned to the washroom.

"I'm only trying to help, kid," yelled Edgar through the wall, "just want to make sure no one follows the mistake I made."

"I haven't made any mistakes!" Yelled back Harry as he turned on the water.

The pearly white apparition floated through the wall into the shower room, Harry blanched and tried to cover himself in the shoulder length tall stall.

"Kid, you ain't got nothing I haven't seen before," said Edgar.

"I'd prefer you not to see me at all," rejoined Harry.

"Look, Kid," said Edgar with a plea, "I made a mistake a long time ago, similar to you're situation. I've seen you playing and practicing your heart out for the past few weeks, and always leaving the pitch in defeat. I got my knee blown out by an overzealous beater, and like you I tried to get back on the horse for a long time. I see it in your eyes, Kid. You, like I, miss this awesome game, the feel of the wind in your hair as you go fast and then faster. I've seen how you played for the past five years, and for you to leave the game would be a tragedy. I mean, the action would be out the game completely what with how the current teams are shaped up.

"I made a bad choice to permanently retire from quidditch and take up announcing. I love it, don't get me wrong, but I threw away the chance to play again for a desk job."

"Look, Mr. Clogg, I can't play quidditch again," said Harry heatedly as he rubbed soap onto himself, "my left hand is complete bollix, I won't be able to be a seeker."

"Who says you need to be a seeker?" asked the ghost.

"What else would I be," said Harry as he rinsed off, "chaser and keepers needs to have two hands on the broom as well."

"But not a beater," replied Edgar smugly.

Harry pondered it for a second, _why not change positions? If it meant I could play, but what do I know about being a beater?_ "I don't know the first thing about being a beater," he finally stated.

"You are underselling yourself, Kid," drawled Clogg impatiently, "for the past five years, who were the main players you avoided on the pitch? The beaters. What better person to be a beater than a former seeker, because you know how a seeker would react to everything."

"Even so, I don't have the body for it," replied Harry.

"Are you joking, Kid?" Asked the ghost, "if I was alive I'd wish I had your body. You are an athlete, kid; you'd be a pure powerhouse in any position."

Sagging his shoulders, Harry dried himself off with a towel. Looking in the mirror, he brushed back his hair with his left hand, seeing both of his scars at the same time. He looked back at the ghost form of Edgar Clogg, former quidditch player and announcer.

"Fine, I'll try it out tomorrow," he said and passed by the ghost.

Edgar turned to follow Harry, "I'll see you tomorrow, Kid."

Ω∞†∞Ω

The next day, Harry walked onto the field _Firebolt_ in on hand and a beater's bat that he borrowed from Jack. Edgar Clogg was floating in the middle of the pitch with a crate.

"What's in the crate," yelled Harry as he made his way over to the ghost.

"Apples," rejoined the ghost.

"Apples," asked Harry perplexed, starring into the open crate of red globular items that had little stems poking out with occasion leaves.

"Yes, apples," replied the ghost again, "need to build up your hitting accuracy before you get airborne."

"My what?"

Edgar gave what would have been a real breathy sigh, if he had real lungs that is, "your hitting accuracy, how well you hit an object from a standing stable position. You'll need to improve that before you work in the air. Here hit this, Kid."

Edgar held up the apple, "just take a swing, yeah?"

"Yeah, Kid. Just take a swing, won't do me no harm."

Harry put his _Firebolt_ on the ground and held the bat in his left hand. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed the grip on the bat, exhaled and swung at the red apple that was in Edgar's hand hitting it dead on sending it flying a good twenty meters.

"Good, Kid," said Edgar, "try it again."

Harry tried again and again, hitting the individual apples farther and farther. After he had put enough strength into three hits that utterly demolished the fruits in little bits that stuck in his messy hair, did Edgar suggest him to climb on the _Firebolt_. Flying around as apples were tossed into the air, Harry hit them again and again. Edgar then starting floating higher into the air as he tossed the apples.

"Trying hitting them at me," he said.

Harry complied, and of the fifty some apples that Edgar tossed into the air, all but thirteen were returned to him. Minus the one that exploded when Harry hit it especially hard. Covered in little pieces of apple, flying one handed on his _Firebolt_ and a beater bat in his left hand, Harry found a way back on the field. Hold his bat straight up; Harry started a spiral climb through the air, bringing his body closer together, and speeding up the spiral. Higher and higher he climbed, screaming in excitement all the way.

He arched in a curve before diving all the way back. He leveled off and jumped of his _Firebolt_. Feet firmly on the ground, a grin from ear to ear, and the beater's bat firmly grasped in his hand.

"I do believe the Kid is back," drawled Clogg.

"I may be back," panted Harry as he took his equipment to the locker room, "but I'm just a reserve."

"Kid, I grantee that you'll be able to play in the up coming game," said Edgar.

"Why are you so certain," asked the bespectacled teen.

Edgar shrugged, "sometimes I just get hunches."

"Ghost thing?" asked Harry.

"As an announcer, you tend to have a sixth sense," said Edgar, "specially with sports."

With that, Edgar floated away and Harry wandered into the locker room to change and shower.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the Great Hall eating their respective suppers when Katie Bell came over to the table. She looked haggard with dark rings under her eyes that stood out greatly against her white skin, her pony tail was only half formed, and the rest sprawled out behind her.

"I just spent the last twenty-fours with no sleep," she stated, "and do you know why?"

"Not particularly," answered Ron, his shoulder was then slapped by Hermione.

"Jack Sloper is on academic probation!" exclaimed Katie as she threw her self down on the bench.

"So," replied Ron as he bit into a roll.

"So," replied Katie, "he isn't applicable to play quidditch now."

"What?" said Ron and Harry.

"Out of all the times I messed up in my classes, I was never put on academic probation?" Questioned the red head.

"Apparently, you didn't do as badly as you thought," said Katie.

"They can actually remove someone from the quidditch team?" asked Harry.

"Yes, unfortunately," replied Katie, "the last time it was enforced was in 1979 when Gilderoy Lockhart was removed for failing Potions and Transfiguration."

"Lets hope that's all Sloper and Lockhart have in common," said Ron.

"Harry, remember what we talked about in the beginning of the semester," said Katie.

"About me…filling in spots for the team being possible," said Harry, "look, Katie, I've been trying to for a good month now, but…I can't play as seeker again."

"Harry, we have a seeker, you're training him," said Katie, "I need you to play beater."

Harry first thought of Clogg and how this was too much of a coincidence. _How did Clogg pull this one off_?

"Besides," continued Katie, "Oliver told me in my second year what a bang up beater you could be, what with a little muscle. And by George, you gained that muscle, plus some."

Harry blushed and turned away from Katie. _Should I?_ He thought to himself, _it's just too…easy. Something isn't right_.

"Harry, we need you," said Katie.

Harry sighed, "Euan has my _Firebolt_ for games, what can I ride?"

"Buy a new one, you certainly have enough," said Katie, "Harry, we need you, now."

Harry nodded, "get me an owl order catalog."

"Are you sure Harry," asked Hermione, "I mean, you have been awfully busy for the past two months."

"Merlin, Hermione," said Ron as he rolled his eyes, "let the man have a little fun."

"I know Ron, but with everything that has been going on, maybe," Hermione stop and shook her head, "Just forget it, Ron. Harry, you need to have some fun."

"That's going to be a little hard," said Katie, "considering the first game is in four days, and we will really need to train you up. You'll probably have to use a school broom for the game."

"Shite!" exclaimed Harry, "Tony Raven is going to be scouting at this game."

"Tony Raven," said Katie in shock, "as in Tony 'the Mock' Raven, the two time winner of the English Quidditch League Most Valuable Player. The captain of the English Quidditch team for seven years in a row. That Tony Raven?"

"Yes, that Tony Raven," replied Harry, "I sent him a letter telling him about my…circumstance, but he still wants to come down and watch."

"You mean Tony Raven wants to come down and see our team play," said Katie in shock.

"He certainly isn't here to see the Slytherins," said Ron.

"Now now, Weasel," drawled the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy, "just because we'll play better then you're team in a few days doesn't mean you have to preemptively glower."

"The only reason you make me grimace is because of you stench," replied Ron, "did Snape remove the showers in Slytherin house so that all the Slytherin's would be greasy louts like himself?"

"You might want to control your rodent, Scarhead."

"One, I don't and will never control my friends, unlike you," replied Harry, looking Draco in his eyes, "two, you should put your qudditch where your mouth is. Bring your game to the field in four days, then we shall see."

"How precisely are you going to catch the snitch with your busted hand," retorted Malfoy smugly.

"I won't catch it," replied Harry, "but I'll make sure as hell to prevent you from catching it."

"We'll see Potter, we'll see," replied Malfoy as he started to walk away.

Katie looked at Harry, "do you think you'll be able to beat him?"

"I'll have to," replied Harry, "because Euan is definitely not going to catch that snitch."

"C'mon, you lot," said Dean as he passed by the trio, "we've got class."

Ω∞†∞Ω

That day's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was a little different than all the others. In some form of a real life exercise, as Sun Gao had told them, they were learning in the Forbidden Forest instead of their usual class room. Their goal for today was just to familiarize themselves with a forest like scene. Through all the memorized and practiced martial arts fighting styles and random useful spells, they had learned quite a bit from Sun Gao. Everyone was at the same level Harry was at by the end of the summer. Well, except for Harry.

Harry during that time improved his already fine tuned skills, in most cases, Sun Gao used him as an assistant. However, when everyone else was neurloading Harry's summer education, Harry was learning the fundamentals of Spanish, German and Italian. Why Sun Gao wanted Harry to learn all these languages, he wasn't sure. But Harry, did have to admit to himself that it was rather nice to be able to read the exotic spells that came from that particular area. One particular spell that Harry took a likening to created a moldy dust cloud that caused a person's line of sight to become obscured. It had been used so much in the former capital of Spain Toledo to escape from duels that the monarch, who had a severe allergy to mold and dust, moved the capital to Madrid.

"Gather round," called Sun Gao to the Shyr Long Clan during the middle of the lesson, "now, we shall see how well you know you're surroundings. You shall be split up into three groups of four, one group of five. You're goal is to stay hidden in the forest and not be spotted by another team or myself. Does everyone here know the paint projectile spell?"

"Yes, sir," echoed the class like trained troops, even Malfoy muttered the affirmative.

"Here are the teams," continued the aged Asian man as he pulled out a roll of paper, "Juan Shyr, Gong Prying, Tsong Jiau and Fei Ma shall be group Alpha. Shu, Huan, Chwen and Si Hsieh Wang shall be group Beta. Yi, Ta, Shing Gaan and Mong Shou shall be group Delta. And Bawpei, Hsin, Shern, Tz Raan and Hong Mu shall be group Omega. You have a thirty second start, go now."

Harry, Ernie, Dean and Michael took no time to quickly rush off the trail path. Harry quickly cast the spell that obscured vision in a cloud of dust so as to block off any onlookers. He stopped the group and constructed a silence space around them, so no one would be able to hear them.

"What is this…dust," asked Ernie before he sneezed.

"Merlin," hissed Corner, "do you want everyone to know where we are?"

"Don't worry about it Corner," said Harry, "I erected a silencing field, it's only temporary though."

"Good thinking, mate," said Dean, "now what do we do?"

"I think the best thing to do is be in constant movement," said Corner.

"Bad idea," said Dean, "too much leaf cover, we'd be heard miles around."

"True," said Ernie, "but we'd be sitting ducks in one spot."

"Best thing we can do is combine both," replied Harry, noting the long robes his team was wearing, _we'll need to do something about that_, "we'll move around, but set up traps to entice the other groups. The best defense is an offense that we can fall back on."

"How can we set up traps," asked Ernie.

"Make them thing they found us," said Harry, "you lot have clothing like pants and shirts under your robes I hope." They all nodded, "good, remove your robes, we'll need them."

"Our robes?"

"Yes, their, the decoys," said Harry.

Terry Boot was the point man for Alpha group. This meant that he was the first to check out an area and determine if there was another team in the area. If there was, he would slowly travel to the safe spot the rest of his team, Gregory Goyle, Susan Bones and Neville Longbottom, was located. Thus far, they had avoided crossing paths with Delta and nearly missed Omega. Terry wanted some action, but he also wanted to pass this mission.

When his keen eye caught the flutter of a black robe from behind a tree, he new that a team was ahead of them. When he searched around, he also noted the toe of a shoe sticking out from under a bush. Only with half their team visible, it would be enough to put them out of the game. Terry returned to his team mates.

"Anything out there?" asked Susan, she had taken leadership of the group.

"Yeah, I saw a cloak and shoe," replied Terry, "their hidden, but not that well, I could make out the positions of half their team."

"Bit of a risk, don't yah think," asked Neville, Goyle grunted.

"I think they were trying to set a trap for us to fall in," said Terry.

"Trying?" posed Susan.

"Well, if it was a good trap, I wouldn't have been able to see them."

"But you only saw half the team," asked Susan.

Terry nodded, "but if we take them out, the other half will come to help."

"Or to take us down," said Goyle.

"Look, we know Omega and Delta are a while behind us, they won't be able to hear us," said Terry, "so if we put ourselves in the open to take these blokes out, it'll be an even match."

"I rather play it safe," said Susan.

"Me too," replied Neville, Goyle just grunted again.

"So would I," said Terry, "but they are practically telling us their location."

"Okay, how's this," said Susan, "Terry and me lead on the path, while Goyle and Neville take the brush for cover. If we get in trouble, we'll have back up under cover."

They all nodded and proceeded to their respective spots. Susan and Terry slowly walked forward, making sure that they were back to back. When they made it within a good ten meters of the still visible cloak and shoe, they fired two paint projectile spells and hit them twice. Moving forward, Terry broke off to check the shoe. Susan held her hand back, to tell Goyle and Neville to hold back. She then went over to check out the cloak.

The cloak was hit twice with a very visible yellow paint, unfortunately there was no person in it. The empty cloak was hung on a low branch. Susan, fearing that she had entered a trap, went to check on her partner. Terry had found a similar article, where he had hit the shoe twice, but there was no one wearing it. _Shite, it's a trap_, he thought as he went out to see his partner.

They met in the middle of the path, "there was no one wearing them," they both said.

"It's a trap," said Terry.

"I dunno," replied Susan, "we haven't been hit yet."

Goyle and Neville were walking towards them side by side, both looking rather pissed off. Their wands where held limply in their hands.

"Goyle, Neville, what are you doing out here, get back in the cover," said Susan, "it's a trap."

"We know," said Neville as he and Goyle parted to show Michael Corner and Dean Thomas behind them.

Susan and Terry instantly raised their wands, until they both felt a wet viscous fluid hitting their arms. Looking down, they saw red paint marking them. Harry and Ernie then proceeded to come out of their prone lying down positions. They had been waiting there before the bush with the shoe under brush and a silencing field.

"Good job, boys," said Harry to his team, "sorry, but we had to eliminate a team and you're the first we saw in a while."

"It's alright," said Susan, "would have liked to win."

"You almost messed up our plan, what with having Neville and Goyle under cover," said Dean.

"Some good it did," said Neville.

"Hey, messed us up for sure, made it a little bit more messy," replied Dean, "Our plan involved not being scene at all, but you know, you got to react."

"So what do we do know," asked Terry.

"Wanna be our new decoys?" asked Ernie.

"Rather not," said Neville, "guess we'll just head back to the main part."

"Mind if we escort you," said Harry as he slipped his shoe back on, "we might be able to take some more people out on the way there."

"Sure," said the eliminated Alpha team.

Harry and his troop broke off in twos and took coverage in the brush while Alpha team walked in the open path, the red paint clearly visible on two arms and two backs. They made it all the way into the clearing without any harassment. Harry and his group bid them adieu before slipping back into the forest. As the roamed quietly and slowly, hard heard a twig break, that wasn't from his group. Motioning them to take cover near some thick crowded trees and hold. He erected a silence field, so he could address them.

"We all heard it, but I want to investigate it," said Harry, "I don't want to commit the whole team. Set up here, and I'll go by myself."

"No," said Ernie, "you'll need someone to back you up if you get tagged."

"And if two people get tagged that'll cut our team in half," said Harry.

"I rather be there with you, mate," said Dean.

"Can't have that," said Harry, "if I'm in trouble of being tagged, I'll lead them to this general area where we can surprise them."

"I don't like it," said the team.

"Tough," said Harry and rushed out of the silence field.

He made his way to a tree that over looked a clearing where he heard another crack from a twig. He looked into the clearing to see a darkly shrouded figure, but it was not in a Death Eater fashion. The figure that stood in front, dressed in simple grey Shaolin Monk style clothing could only be Sun Gao.

"Ratai, please watch your treading," said the aged Asian man, "I rather not alert your presence to my students."

"The situation es dire Visshiye Ofitseri General Armii," said Ratai, his accented voice quivering.

"Out with it Starshiy Leytenant," said Sun Gao.

"Thee Darch Lord chas kilt them," cried out Ratai, gesticulating with his hands.

"Who, Ratai, who 'as he killed," asked Sun Gao.

"The Zansteps, all of them," replied the Russian, "che took out whole Zanstep prrogram. My, our, team was destroyed. I was the only one to survive…"

"What happened," asked Sun Gao.

"Yuriy, Danovich, Lubava, they are all dead," said Ratai as he sat down on a stump, "we…someone chad to chave informed chim. Che knew who we were, che did it himself. AK'd all ov us, luckily, I got away."

"Yas, Ratai, I am happy you did get away," said Sun Gao, "how many more do we have left."

"Counting you and myself," said Ratai, "all we have left es Poliakoff."

"I think I can persuade an old friend," said Sun Gao, "to join us."

"Can I tell chim, sir, it vill be of service to us," said Ratai, distortedly.

"No," said Sun Gao as he stroked his long beard, "I told you that you will not be able to do it for awhile. Give him time."

"It es chis family," said Ratai, enraged, "che should know!"

"And he will," said Sun Gao.

"I owe it to chis father," said Ratai firmly.

"I know, and you will tell him in good time," said the aged Asian man, "we can work around this Ratai."

"I know, but it is not getting much easier," said Ratai.

"It never does," said Sun Gao, "you need some sleep, and don't protest. I want you to go into my room, I must keep you close by."

"The headmaster won't allow it," said Ratai.

"He will see reason," said Sun Gao, "I assure you Starshiy Leytenant Rudomet. Go now."

"Das Vadaña, Visshiye Ofitseri General Armii," said Ratai with a nod.

"Harry," hissed a voice in the back of his ear, he turned around to see Dean, "we have to get out of here."

"Are the other okay," asked Harry quietly, both of them moving away from the scene.

"No," said Dean, "I went out to scout a bit. When I returned they we gone, I think Malfoy got them."

"Why do you say Malfoy," asked Harry.

Dean looked at Harry sadly, "I saw the other teams."

"Team," corrected Harry.

"No, teams," said Dean, "he captured Delta group and proceeded to force them to eat the paint blasts. Half his group rebelled and they were tied up and treated the same way. Corner and Macmillan were then thrown in, I assume."

"Shite," said Harry, "who's with him?"

"She isn't so much with him, but smart enough to avoid getting humiliated," said Dean, "but Padma is helping him."

"Where are they being held," asked Harry, Sun Gao's conversation pushed farther back into his mind.

"Follow me," said Dean.

They made their way to yet another clear. Quite visible in the clearing were the paint covered faces of Michael, Ernie, Blaise, Sarah, Tracey, Justin, Lisa, Hermione and Ron. Harry was upset that his friends could be overpowered and tied together like this. The cruel and unusual punishment Malfoy was putting them through was embarrassing. _Speaking of the devil's offspring_, thought Harry as Malfoy walked into the clearing with Padma behind him.

"My, my, I think these louts need another feeding," sneered the bleached white blonde.

"Malfoy, haven't you had enough yet," said Padma.

"Do you want to join them," hissed Malfoy, after Padma thought for a second, she shook her head, "then shut your mouth."

Anger taking over him, Harry stepped out of the brush. Realizing he should back him up, Dean followed. Both parties were out in the open staring each other down.

"Stop this Draco, now," said Harry.

"You'll have to make me Potter," sneered the blonde.

There was a wet spluttering sound that caused all the parties to stop. Draco put his arm around his back and brought it forward showing the green paint. He hissed and turned to Padma, who had shot him in the back, and he banished her into the clearing. She landed with a thud on the ground and didn't get up.

Dean and Harry both shot stunners at Malfoy, who erected a shield, "two against one is not rather a fair fight," said Malfoy.

"It's rather unfair to forgo the rules of the game," said Harry.

"I make my own rules, Potter!" shouted Malfoy.

"But not this time, Shern," calmly replied Sun Gao, he flicked his wand disarming Malfoy and levitating him, "That'll be a detention to be served next week. You'll get your wand back then as well."

"You can't take my wand!" yelled out Malfoy.

"A week with out it will teach you to hold on to it well, Shern," said the aged Asian, "class is dismissed."

After everyone was cleaned up and Padma returned to consciousness, they made their way to the castle. Some were going over the specifics of their tactics, what went wrong and how much of a douche bag Malfoy was. The blonde teen was now where to be seen, which considering the majority of the people present were humiliated by him, it was a good thing. Harry, however, was informing his friends on the conversation he overheard between Sun Gao and Ratai.

"Are you certain this was Ratai," asked Ron.

"Yes, Sun Gao even called him Ratai," said Harry.

"Why would Voldemort do such a thing," pondered Hermione out loud.

Ron shuddered before he said, "I dunno, why would a crazy wanker want to kill Russian Aurors?"

"That's not what I meant, Ron," snapped Hermione, "I mean why did he use muggle means to do it?"

"What do you mean Hermione," asked Harry.

"Ratai said AK'd right?" asked the intelligent bushy haired teen, "well, from what I read, AK'd is an abbreviated term of being shot at with a Kalashnikov rifle."

"How do you know this stuff!" shouted Ron, looking up expecting and answer to come from the sky.

"I read, Ron," said Hermione, "and Solzhenitsyn is a better writer then Casanova."

"Let's not talk about this," said both boys in agreement.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Dear Mr. Potter,

I would like to remind you that I will be attending the first game of Hogwarts' Quidditch season this coming Sunday, the 27th. In your past letter, you mentioned the serious injury that occurred to you hand. I hope it is functioning well even though it has taken away your seeker playing ability. I hope that I will see you on the field in some way or form because, for people like you and me, quidditch runs through our veins. See you soon.

Sincerely,

Tony Raven, England's Under 17's Head Coach and Q.U.A.B.B.L.E. member

Harry folded up the note he had received that breakfast. It was the morning of the first quidditch match of the season and it was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Harry had been practicing as a beater with the team, taking a few tips from Sloper, and for the most part didn't feel confident. The power hitting was no problem to Harry, but getting some form of accuracy with a bludger was ridiculous. The worst part of it was the school broom that Harry was borrowing for the game was a _Moontrimmer_, the same broom the Gladys Boothby had created some 95 years ago. The broom itself had an attitude not unlike the creator.

Harry, Andrew, Ron, Katie, Ginny, Gerald MacFusty, Euan Abercrombie made their way into the locker room and proceeded to suit up for the game. Collecting around the benches, the team sat in waiting for Katie's pep talk. Harry gripped the beater's bat in his left hand and gave a few swings. He quickly went over all the different style of hitting he had learned in his head. _Sweeping arch for long distance, horizontal for line drive, forearm brace for close hit._

"Don't worry, mate," said Andrew Kirke, the other beater, "you'll do well."

Harry smiled wanly at him as he white knuckled gripped that bat, "Alright, you lot," began Katie, "lets go get 'em."

"Wha?" questioned Ron, "no pre-game pep talk?"

"You can't break tradition, Katie," said Harry.

"How's this for a pep talk," began Katie, "nothing of this team can be said, only shown. So lets out show those Slytherins and give them a need for a pep talk."

They all walked onto the field as one and circled the centre of the pitch where Madame Hooch was with the balls. The Slytherin team, clad in green, was comprised of Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe, Adrian Pucey, Maximus Vaisey, Chester Warrington, and Clive Anderson. As always, the Slytherins had gone for muscle instead of real talent, except in the case of Malfoy. Katie and Malfoy walked into the middle of the circle to shake hands when Madame Hooch asked the captains to step forward. Malfoy, in regular fashion, tried to physically harm Katie by squeezing her hand hard. Fortunately, even after the training with Sun Gao, he was no where near strong enough to hurt her.

The balls where then released and the fourteen players shot into the air. The bludgers Harry noticed were easy to spot compared to the tiny fast moving snitch. Seeing the Slytherin chaser's in possession of the quaffle, Harry moved to the nearest bludger and sent a line drive to the center of the Slytherin formation. The green chasers scattered but retained possession until it was stolen by Ginny. On the defensive now, Harry intercepted a bludger aimed at Katie and sent it over to Andrew who quick-hit-it at the chaser's defensive line, causing them to scatter again and allowing Ginny to pass to Katie for the score.

"Gryffindor leads 10-0, score by Katie Bell, captain for the Gryffindor Team," said the announcer who turned out to be Zacharias Smith, "Potter almost loses the bludger, but Kirke luckily clears up the mess."

"What's the matter Scarhead," hissed Malfoy, who was creeping up along side him, "couldn't take the life of a seeker?"

"Harry, stop talking and start working!" shouted Katie from her defensive formation.

Harry flew to the nearest bludger, sending it into the Slytherin formation. The bludger found it's mark with Clive Anderson's head by accident. The chaser began to fall of his broom but Madame Hooch was able to rescue him in time. Blowing her whistle for a stop of play so Clive could get some medical attention, Harry then heard the announcer again.

"…dirty play by Gryffindor beater, Harry Potter, seems to have knocked Slytherin chaser, Clive Anderson, out for the moment," said the blonde jerk, "Gryffindor is currently in the lead, 40-10. Though Potter seems to be helping the score along as he knocks out the Slytherin chasers."

Anderson was _enervated_ back into play by Madame Pomfrey, he had just been knocked unconscious. Resuming play, most of the Slytherin chasers tried to stay out of Harry's line of site. Beating the bludgers back and forth like a tennis ball at Wimbledon started to become tiring for Harry. His eyes started roaming the pitch, looking for the best way to break up the Slytherin formations.

Malfoy, having given up on the snitch for a moment saw a chance to take a Gryffindor player out of the game. Goyle had just hit a line drive to the back of Katie Bell. All he had to do was move her over to the side an inch more and it would hit her directly behind her head. Flying fast to the Gryffindor chaser alerted Harry. He began to race to the two, his bat resting on his forearm. He then noticed the bludger directly in lined with the back of Katie's head.

He bent down to gain speed and tried to fly between them and intercept the bludger. Katie, seeing these two blurs rushing at her decided to cut her losses and drop downwards. Harry got there just as Katie had dropped down and stretched out his forearm to hit the bludger away to the right. Unfortunately that led directly into the path of the still speeding Malfoy.

The resulting crunch as the bludger hit and broke Malfoy's nose was heard through out the stands. The bludger shot straight out into Harry's outstretched forearm that still had his beater's bat held against. The bludger then hit of in a horizontal line again, right into Malfoy's awaiting face again, causing a wet smacking sound from the bludger hitting his freely pouring blood. The horrendous blood covered bludger started to fly off again.

Malfoy, bleeding a deep red from his nose started to fall forwards. Tucking his bat under his arm, Harry caught the blonde pureblood by his collar and slowly drifted down to the ground. He was met by Madame Pomfrey and Madame Hooch.

"Great Merlin, Potter," shouted the venerable quidditch instructor, "what the bloody hell do you think you are doing."

"It…was a mistake," stammered Harry, "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"You didn't mean for it to happen?" Shouted the Madame Hooch, "he could have brain damage because of you."

"Now that's a bit extreme, Rolanda," said Madame Pomfrey, "it's just a broken nose, nothing I can't fix in a jiff."

With that, Madame Pomfrey swished her wand, setting the bone in place and healing it quickly. Before she _enervated_ Malfoy, Harry caught some more of Smith's commentary.

"…honestly, the way Potter is playing is quite dirty," said the stuck up blonde, "I'm tempted to give him a peace of my mind. Destroying the honourable game of quidditch. He didn't get taken out for that? What is Madame Hooch thinking! Potter has been playing dirty all game!"

Harry had just about had it with that blonde punk. The game proceeded, Malfoy was up in the air wet blood soaked into his clothing. He had decided, like the rest of the Slytherin team, to stay as far away from Harry as possible. Harry got closer to the commentators stand, keeping and eye out for any stray bludgers that might be hurtling at the Gryffindor team, Goyle and Crabbe decided to play defensively so as not to invoke a hit from Harry. Dumb luck seems to be a part of Harry's life, two accidental hits that were quite well now has the whole of Slytherin team fearing him. In truth, Kirke was being the better beater in the game.

"The score is now 250-40, to Gryffindor," announced Smith, "and no wonder why, the Slytherin team is cowering away from 'Head-hunter-Harry' Potter."

Kirke looked over to Harry, who twirled his bat as a sign of passing the bludger. Kirke easily lobbed one over to Harry, allowing it to proceed past him before swinging about and hitting a line drive into the announcer's seat. Luckily for Zacharias, he had enough time to duck, though he still kept yelling into the loud speaker as the bludger buried itself into the wood work of the stadium behind him.

"Sweet Merlin and Morgana!" yelled the blonde punk, "What the bloody hell do you think you are doing, Potter! Your arms should be rendered from your body! Dear Merlin, he almost hit me!"

There was some click noises that sounded like wrestling back and forth between the loud speaker. At one point it clicked on long enough for the stern words of Professor McGonagall to be heard.

"Never in my life have I ever. Too think you were the most unbiased choice Rolanda had to offer. Get out of the stands now, Mr. Smith. You heard me."

"But he _attacked_ me!" yelled back the enraged teen.

"A bludger was accidentally hit into the booth, Mr. Smith," said McGonagall sternly, "and to think otherwise would be preposterous. Now on with the game!"

From there, McGonagall took over the microphone and the game, which didn't last that much longer. Ending rather lamely, not in some high speed neck and neck chase, Draco Malfoy out stretched his hand in a yawn. Grasping it closed, did he feel the cool metal against his palm. Claiming it as supreme talent of plucking the snitch from the air fooled no one. The final score was 300-200 to Gryffindor. Everyone descended to the ground, were a few supporters waited to greet them. Sure there would be a party that night, but winning a game with out catching the snitch was…in all intense and purposes…not the prettiest type of win.

The two figures walking up to Harry were quite noticeable. In his double breasted navy blue suit and light powder blue robe, Mr. Kelpurn looked all the part like a wizarding lawyer, or so Harry assumed. The tall stocky man standing next to him was wearing a nondescript raven black robe, his black hair was long and in a pony tail his nose shaped like a hawk. If it wasn't for his muscular build and smiling face, Harry would have thought he was related to Snape.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," greeted Graham Kelpurn.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Kelpurn," replied Harry as he looked over to the other man, Ron and Hermione were waiting behind him.

"Please allow me to introduce you to Mr. Anthony MacRaven," said Kelpurn, indicating the raven haired man.

"Just call me Tony," said the Tony Raven, as he shook Harry's hand, "and I must say that quite a name you picked up for yourself, Harry."

"I beg your pardon, sir," rejoined Harry.

"Cut the sir crap out, don't need it in my life," said the former quidditch player, "and I'm talking about you, Head-hunter-Harry Potter."

"Oh, yes, that," stammered Harry, "I didn't really mean to…"

"Take this from me kid, if it impresses people, claim you did it on purpose. You might want to write that down."

"Anyway, Mr. MacRaven, has some wonderful news," said Kelpurn.

"Quite right," said the quidditch coach, "it's a little preemptive to offer it, but if you practice a little more, I might be able to squeeze you onto the team for this summer's exhibitions."

"Are you…sure?" asked Harry.

"Kid, I'm more surer of this than then of having you play as seeker," said Tony, "how's the hand treating you anyways?"

"Still can't keep it on the broom and have it work well," said Harry, "but having a bat in it is the only way I can play."

"True enough," Tony mumbled, "you were tossing out a lot of power today, but your accuracy needs work. But I'll be damned if I don't say it, you had a damn lucky hit with that seeker. Never seen a close up double hit before, bet you did some real damage."

"I only hope so," mumbled Harry.

"Anyway, I wanted to go talk with that chaser of yours...what's her name? Katie Bell," asked Raven.

"Katie's amazing at chaser," said Harry.

"Damn right she is," said Tony, "I'll be waiting to hear your terms later. Adios Graham, see yah later 'Head-hunter'."

Tony then began to walk over to find Katie Bell. Ron and Hermione came up to Harry.

"How'd it go?" asked the red head.

"What'd he say?" asked Hermione.

"Mr. MacRaven informed Mr. Potter that with a little practice, he should be able to make the English Under 17 exhibition team this summer," said Graham Kelpurn as he removed an envelope from a pile, "however, it is still yet to be decided by Mr. Potter if he would like to participate in such a league."

"Well, are you going to Harry," asked Ron.

"Don't pressure him, Ron," said the bushy haired girl.

"I don't know," replied Harry, "I just don't know. This summer seems…really… far away."

"Do not fret it over now, Mr. Potter," said Graham Kelpurn, "you have more pressing matters to attend to. The Weasley twins and Mr. Jordan asked me to deliver this to you. I recommend that you attended."

Graham Kelpurn, Harry's lawyer, made his way out of the pitch, leaving behind a heavy envelope for Harry.

"Well," stressed Ron, "are you going to open it up?"

Harry unfurled the parchment as Hermione elbowed Ron in the side, _tsk_ing him about his lack of tack.

Mr. Harry James Potter + 1

Is cordially invited to participate  
And host the opening of

Fairy Tails Wizarding Nightclub

With fellow proprietors  
Lee Jordan  
Fred Weasley  
George Weasley  
&  
Albus Dumbledore

The festivities shall begin at 9 o'clock p.m.  
October 31st, 1996  
In Phoenix Hall  
And will continue well past the Witching Hour

Harry had nearly forgotten that it was close to the opening his shared venture for Fairy Tails. _What did Kelpurn say, again?_ He thought to himself, _he strongly recommended me to attend?_

"Merlin, Harry," thought out Ron, "I didn't know you were the other backer for Lee's project. Are we invited too?"

"Don't be so self centered," scolded Hermione, "it says 'Plus One', not 'Plus Two'."

"So?" asked Ron.

"That means only one other person can go with Harry," said Hermione, "the question is, who's it going to be?"

Harry looked at his friends awaiting faces, then down at the parchment. The one thought running through his head was _damn you Fred and George. Damn you!_

**

* * *

****A/N**: I apologize for my over extended leave of absence. I have been adjusting to college, trying to do well in my courses, and gaining the 'full college experience'. Unfortunately, this left me with very little time for my fic. However, I shall be writing again, though not at the same pace I did before. I preemptively apologize for this. I did not abandon this fic. It is still living. Do not worry. 

In the meanwhile, college is great. But what is even better is that Nita updated chapter 7 a long time ago for me. I love you a lot Nita, and I'm sorry I stepped out of the loop with you.

There really isn't anything I can say about what has happened in this chapter, it was rather timid. The loss of the Zansteps however foreshadows the fall of the Russian government. With out a standing Army, a nation can not stand firmly, especially in war.

Clive Anderson is the host of the British version of _Whose Line is it Anyway_.

Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn is a famous Russian write that was exiled from his country to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature. He has written great books like the three book exposition _The Gulag Archipelago_ and the very short, but well written _One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. _

I would like to thank **Ansku**, **Sirius009**, **HarryReader**, **Desert Hacker**, **Tmctflyboy**, **Fibonaci**, **Garylensman2001** and **Miguel72001** for review the past chapter and/or the whole entire story. I would also like to thank **waytoobored **and **Xanadrine **for putting my fic on their C2s.

This is Forfie, signing out.


	17. The Unbound Creators Guild

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rites to Harry Potter nor anything associated with the author J.K. Rowling. The plot is mine own, if you don't like it, take a walk. If you do like, you're wicked awesome, guy.

This is the Un-beta'd form.

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By the Forfienator 

Chapter 17.) The Unbound Creators Guild

**Guess who's Coming to Dinner?**

Written by Politick Muckraker, outside source

LONDON, ENGLAND--The world has opened its doors and windows in the idea of free and undeniable equal rights, for the privileged. However, having all the doors and windows open has enticed the rude, crude and evil aspects of our society as a whole to enter our homes. I say this because of the recent events that have plagued my home, Russia, which started right here on English soil. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named arose here some 25 years ago, and it was here were he was stalled, as well as being the jumping point of his return.

The accounts of both rises of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named have been investigated well enough for the past few months; however, there is another problem that is occurring. In the wake of his return, the opening of political ties between England, Russia, Norway, Iceland and Canada have lead me to believe that an unofficial, or if official and secretive, alliance has been constructed. Free trade is now common among this economies, but the importing of tariff free items and exporting of high profit products has also led to the importing of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name's ideas and exporting of dark wizards to his service. While some might see this as being far fetched, the census reports from the Magical Federation of Russia have shown a 98 decrease of suspected and or alleged dark supporters. This is the least of Russia's problem.

Along with the disappearance of individuals that could possibly be in the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, another tragic blow was dealt to the wizarding community of Russia. The Zansteps, the paramilitary and primary law enforcing body of the Russian government, were completely destroyed on the 26th of the month. It is unknown how, but the location of all active Zansteps were leaked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and an attack of such force was put forth that only the twenty or so individuals that were not in the field that particular day survived. Contact with the Siberian region has been all but cut off. This is a near death blow that was dealt to the Russian community and I'm sorry to say it has come from the open ties between governments.

The International Confederation, led right now by Supreme Mugwump Albus Dumbledore, has voted to provide Russia with a collective military assistance from the over 120 countries. However, Mugwump Majority Leader from the Representative Magical Democracy of America, George Arnold, said after the International Confederation press conference that "You-Know-Who has infiltrated Russia through the neo-liberal process of free trade. I have spoken out against such institutions before, and to have great allies like England and Russia ignore it is a slap in the face. Though America will help our wizard brethren, all economic relations with this illegal alliance will be halted. I do not want to face You-Know-Who, and neither do my people. He is not our problem". The sentiments shared by Mr. Arnold are quite a common tend in the International Confederation.

There is hope though, so all is not lost. Russia has 20 active Zansteps, with another 300 inactive and retired coming back on duty. The troops now on there way to Russia will swell the ranks to 600, and the current enrollment at the Zansteps Academy has risen 250 after the 26th. Vladimir Popov, the President of the Magical Federation of Russia, said earlier "that through these heinous acts of terror, the true Russian wizarding community will grow strong and united. The Dark Lord may have killed some of Russia's children, but he will forever know that he and his kind will not be tolerated in the new Russia. He might have snuck through our window at night, but we will force him out the front door". This leaves me to think of the individuals we have invited to this global dinner and those that have snuck in though the back window.

Harry and the rest of the Intelligent and Sentient Beings class put down their copies of the _Daily Prophet_ that Professor Beamish had supplied them with. Harry was slightly confused about the article but it did elaborate on what Ratai had told Sun Gao. It also seemed that the alliance that Harry had been a signatory to was not proving to be as fruitful as they had hoped. _Some good will come out of it_, Harry wished.

"Can anyone explain why I forced you all to read this article?" questioned the gangly thin haired professor.

Hermione instantly raised her hand and Professor Beamish nodded in her direction, "the article was meant to inform us on current problems arising within the war against Voldemort," the majority of the class winced or hissed at the mention of the Dark Lord's name.

"Partly," replied Algernon Beamish as he fixed his bow tie causing his Adam's apple to jiggle, "the main reason was to introduce you to the country of focus for the year. Russia has for a long time been an area of intrigue and mystery because of its rough unforgiving terrain. It houses many different cultures, religions, and beings. It is not uncommon to find vampires, werewolves, wraiths, goblins, giants and hags…"

"Are you meaning to say, professor, that all of those creatures are good?" asked Millicent Bulstrode.

"Yes, Ms. Bulstrode, they are good but not perfect," replied Beamish, "humans and wizards are good, but it should be quite obvious that we are not perfect. That is another reason why I insisted on you all reading the article."

"I'd like to see you prove how a vampire isn't evil," spoke out Bulstrode, "for Merlin's sake, they kill humans."

"Not always so," replied Beamish, "but you will be able to hear it first account come late November."

"What do you mean professor," asked Hermione.

"We will be having a guest speaker come late November," replied the Professor, "his is…an expert…on vampires."

"It'll probably be Eldred Worple," whispered Padma to Harry, "he's quite famous for living with vampires."

"And who will you get to come in for werewolves?" called out Bulstrode rudely, "Fenrir Greyback?"

Beamish turned slightly pale, his brows furrowed together, "Ms. Bulstrode, you will fined that very few werewolves share the same disposition of Mr. Greyback. One more outburst like that and it will be a week of detention. While I value freedom of speech, it is not always wise to express personal thoughts. Maybe next time you will think before you speak. Also, there will be no mention of individuals like Fenrir Greyback in my classroom; they only serve the purpose of fostering superstitions."

"Who's Fenrir Greyback," asked Harry after classes were let out.

Hermione shrugged, "I don't particularly know."

"He's not written about in the books," said Ernie who over heard the conversation, "even though he did play a big role in the first war."

"Why isn't he in the books?" asked Hermione.

"Would you put common knowledge in a book?" asked Ernie, "Fenrir Greyback is the werewolf offered as proof for every wizards' idea of werewolves."

Hermione and Harry glared at Ernie, "but Lupin…"

"Is and exception," replied Ernie, "he is a nice man and a good teacher. Fenrir is more talked about because he bit and trained werewolves from an early age. He sided with You-Know-Who and caused many to fear werewolves even more. He's the one that has empowered people like Umbridge."

"Do you think," began Harry.

"That bit Lupin?" finished Hermione, Harry nodded in return.

"You should ask him," said Ernie, "I really do miss that guy."

"We all do," said Harry and Hermione.

Ω∞†∞Ω

The three hour time difference between Moscow and England were not helpful for Harry, who immediately after the morning run and shower made the excuse of going to the Owlery to write Lupin. Harry knew he couldn't really write to Lupin, but it was a way to give him some time alone. Opening the door to the circular tower that was strewn with hay and owl pellets, Harry was assaulted by his snowy white owl. Through out his time, he had neglected Headwig and the owl showed her owner her dissatisfaction by leaving scratches along his face.

"Cor, girl," said Harry as he was trying to brush the flurry of feathers away, "I'm sorry, please stop. I promise not to do it again," Headwig got off Harry with a huff and glided to the nearest post. Perching on it, she turned to Harry giving him a look of contempt.

"Look, girl, I'm terribly sorry," said Harry, "but I'm getting into the swing of thing…and there really isn't someone I can write too, nowadays. I wouldn't want you or them to get injured," Headwig nodded and seemed to give a sigh, "I have to ring Remus, but after that you can come down to breakfast and take a few nips of bacon, yeah?"

The snowy white owl nodded and then jumped onto Harry's shoulder as he healed the light wounds she had inflicted. Taking his wand, Harry intoned, "_J'aimerais parler privément avec Remus Lupin_," and he then placed the tip to his mouth, the base of the wand to his ear.

There seemed to be a buzzing sound before a click, "What's happened?" asked an urgent sounding Remus.

"Mooney, are you alright?" asked Harry worriedly.

The werewolf sighed, "Harry, By George, you scared me. I nearly forgot that I had taught you this spell."

"Are you sure you're alright, Mooney," asked the worried teenager.

"I'm good as can be," said the venerable family friend, "there's been some trouble in the area, but nothing to great."

"Is…everyone okay?" asked Harry as he made sure no one at the door of the owlery.

"Hestia is doing quite well, Viktor as well," replied Remus, "unfortunately, one of our contacts was lost a few days ago…however we have enough for it to not effect our Intel greatly."

"Tell them I wish them well," said Harry.

"I'll make sure to pass that on," rejoined Remus, "now are you going to tell me why you really called?"

Harry did something halfway between a snort and a chuckle, "always perceptive, Mooney."

"This is the first time you've gotten in contact for nigh 3 ½ months," said Mooney, "there must be a reason."

"There is…" said Harry, leaving the answer dangling, "How are the werewolves?"

"Swaying them is fairly hard," replied Remus, "though I do think that I've been able to talk them into being neutral. And the changing the subject won't lead me off the trail."

"It wasn't really off the subject," said Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"In class today…Bulstrode, er…Millicent Bulstrode," said Harry.

"No doubt Cormac's daughter," replied Remus under his breath.

"Err…no clue on the part," said Harry, "anyway, she mentioned a werewolf by the name…Fenrir Greyback."

The second Harry had said the name, a deep growling came from Remus' throat. There was a sound of crashing all the while Mooney growled out, "_GRRRREYBAAACKKKK_"

"Remus?"

"Sorry, Harry," said the werewolf, "it's just that the name…brings back…bad memories. I knew the Malfoy's were connected to Greyback but not the Bulstrodes, this could be helpful. Harry, Fenrir is not the best example of werewolf behavior, in fact he is the most odious of us. He bites young kids and kills their parents so that he can raise them and teach them hate for anything not werewolf. He has been an ally of Lord Voldemort since the first war, I wouldn't be surprised if their alliance was retied."  
"Is he…is…he," stuttered Harry.

"Yes, Harry," said Remus, "he is the one that bite me. Luckily, he wasn't able to kill my parents before they drove him off. However, his pack was near forty-five during the time of the first war, it's probably doubled since then."

"So Greyback's a problem," confirmed Harry.

"Yes," replied Remus, "but not for you, while your in school. Harry I can't stress this enough. I know you've been practicing and probably have learnt more under Sun Gao, but you must be prepared."

"Mooney, I'll be prepared," replied Harry.

Lupin chuckled, "that's exactly what your father and Sirius used to say."

Harry's chest got a little tight at the comment relating him to his father and godfather, both of whom were now deceased.

"Is there anything else you wanted to talk about, Harry," asked Lupin, trying to break the silence.

"Well, yeah…but it's a little private," replied Harry.

"Lay it to me," replied Remus.

"Well…the opening of Fairy Tails is in a few days," said Harry, "and the invitation said plus one…"

"And you're wondering whether to take Hermione or Ron," replied Remus knowingly.

"Exactly," exclaimed Harry.

"Well, I know you're not going to like it," said Remus, "and neither will they…but don't take either."

"Mooney, they're my best friends," replied Harry.

"And you can't choose one over the other with out hurting them," replied Mooney, "however, they will understand if you explain it like that to them."

"I'm certain they will," replied Harry sarcastically.

"Is there anyone who you think should go, for the sake of the Grand Opening that wouldn't be invited other wise?" asked Remus.

It was like someone had lit the torch inside of Harry's head. _There is one person that definitely deserves to go_, thought Harry, _though I hope I don't give her the wrong idea_. "I think I know of someone," replied Harry cryptically.

"Good," said Remus, "now I have a question for you."

"Shoot," said Harry.

"Is what Dumbledore informs me about your beater playing true," asked Mooney, causing Harry to shake his head and smile, "did you really get the nickname 'Head-Hunter-Harry'?"

Harry smiled, "yeah, Mooney, I gave Malfoy a good knocking."

Remus started laughing of the line asking for all the details, of which Harry felt obliged to rely to him. Through the laughing at his nickname, Harry and Remus also went over the reasons why Harry became a beater as well as some random small talk. The both departed in better spirits than they had begun the conversation, as well as with more information, Harry to breakfast with Headwig and Remus to 'work' with Hestia.

Ω∞†∞Ω

All of the Gryffindor 6th years were hanging around the common room late on the night of the October 30th. Harry had yet to tell his friends who had chosen, or rather whom he _hadn't_ chosen, for the grand opening of Fairy Tails. Hopefully, there will be no repeats like last year, in which one, or both, Ron and Hermione stop talking to him. Preparing for the worst, Harry sighed and put his quill down on his half finished project for Creation.

"Ron, Hermione, I've made a decision," said Harry to his two best friends, both of them hunched over some assignment; the rest of the room perked up and looked at each other.

"Well, who'll it be?" asked Ron.

"I've decided to…" there was a long pause as the rest of the 6th years moved closer, "heya, I didn't mean for this to be a public affair."

"Sorry, Har," said Seamus, "but some of us got galleons bet on this."

"You've betted on my…" stuttered Harry, "wait a second, how did you find out?"

"I…err…let it slip, by accident," said Ron, "I have no part of this betting idea though."

"You must be joking," Seamus, "you're the bookie and started the bet!"

"Ron!" yelled Hermione.

"You betted as well!" he retorted.

"But to start such thing," _tisk_ed Hermione, glossing over the fact that she had also put galleons down on who Harry would pick.

"Just forget it!" said Harry, "I didn't choose either of you, I don't want to hurt you."

"YES!" shouted Seamus, "luck o' the Irish, me lads, luck o' Irish."

"Doesn't count, all bets were off when Harry found out that there was betting," grumbled Ron.

"So who are you taking?" asked Hermione with a bit of an evil glint in her eye.

"You'll find out soon enough," replied Harry, as he went back to his Creation project, "though I suggest not betting on me anymore. I'll have a tendency to disappoint the odds."

"In me favor," sang out Seamus as he procured his winnings from Ron.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Professor Gudgeon had asked Harry to stay after class the next day, for what reason, Harry wasn't really sure. The embers in coals of the fire at the center of the room were in the stage of just glowing red, in the need of being stirred. Harry hadn't moved from his seat, his notes and text were still spread out on the work table. The only thing missing from this meeting was Gudgeon himself, who strode through the door limping in his loopy grace. In his hand was leather bound and worn out book.

"How do you like the class so far, Mr. Potter," asked Gudgeon.

"Err…it's quite well so," replied Harry, "I mean, when you're here. Professor Boothby's theory…and…well…attitude are quite…drawbacks."

"I daresay that old Gladys' attitude is set back to the great teacher she once was," replied Gudgeon, "and I always thought theory to be odious, myself. I must say though, that some of your ideas are…controversial."

"Controversial, sir?" Harry was confused.

"Yes, like the improvements on muggle technology that would be used for wizarding kind," replied the professor, "have you not given thought to the culture in which wizards submerged themselves? A shovel might be the best tool for digging in English soil, but it fairs poorly in the compact in New Guinea, where they use the less 'advanced' digging sticks. To you see what I'm trying to get out?"

"I think I do, sir," replied Harry.

"Good," said Gudgeon, "because I want you to continue on this path of thought. Thus far, all you have brought to my attention is the encapsulating of a lightning charge in a small power receptacle. This has been tested before by many creators, I want you to look into why it has failed in its purpose and try to theorize a way to improve on such methods. This is not to limit you to these…'chargables'. Please explore more onto it."

"Is this in addition to the other homework assignments?" asked Harry.

"Unfortunately, yes," said Gudgeon, "but seeing as you will be doing all this extra work for me, I'll cut you a deal. You will not get a grade below an E on a paper. However, this deal will be forfeited if I catch you slacking off in the writings. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor Gudgeon," replied Harry.

"Here, this might be helpful platform," he said, "it's one of a kind; don't let it fall into anyone else's hands. I'd know four individuals who would be extremely upset if it did."

Harry too the untitled book, _could this be something of the Marauders?_ He questioned himself. Opening to the title page, all he found was an inscription.

_To the betterment of Wizarding kind,_

_And the freedom of ideals,_

_Individual rights we all posses,_

_Dear Reader, hear our plea for the future_

_Of our children,_

_And our children's children._

_- The Unbound Creators Guild_

"Alright, off with you," said Gudgeon, "go cause some mayhem, like your parents would."

Harry was making his way to the door, he turned around to see the slumped shoulders of his Creation professor, "did…you know my parents well?"

Gudgeon turned around and looked Harry in the eye, his warm yellowish eyes not betraying his immense sadness, "I did, a long time ago. Though that is the past and this is the present. The future is what we all have to live for."

Harry nodded because his throat was too tight to respond verbally. He decided to leave, knowing what his professor was going through, being lost in sad memories of the past. Sometimes you just needed to be alone. What ever it may be, Harry wanted to know how Gudgeon remembered his family. It was a small personal desire; one of Harry's few personal desires, to know what others had thought of his parents.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Harry had checked with both Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore if he was able to go to the Grand opening, just to make sure. Harry did always pay attention some of the school rules, but he felt that he needed to respect Dumbledore in this sense. After he was given a confirmation, as well use of one of the school's carriages, Harry went to pick up his date. In truth she was friend but someone that wasn't closely tied to Harry, as it would bring unwanted attention. Also, she deserved to attend, seeing as her father was the foreman of construction.

Harry was wearing a pair of his navy blue cargo pants, a black collard shirt, and his worn brown leather jacket with his usual grapehorn boots. When Olivia Perks stepped out of her doorway to enter the carriage, Harry noticed that she was wearing tight black leather pants and a black tank top. Considering it was the middle of a rather cold fall, her dress was not so good for outside wear. Then again, they would be inside for the night in the Fairy Tails complex.

The blue butterfly gently flapped its wings as she slid in next to him, "hey there, Dapper Dan," said before kissing his cheek lightly, "thanks for inviting me."

"No worries, Olivia," replied Harry, "thought you might appreciate a night of fun, as well as seeing the finished project of your dad's work."

"Uh huh," she nodded, "its bloody cold outside, even for October."

Harry, remembering some of the 'lessons' from Jenn over the summer, put his arm around her and pulled Olivia close, "better?"

"Much," replied Olivia, as she leaned closer to Harry.

They stayed like that for the rest of the ride, which lasted a good thirty minutes, neither talking about anything. Harry helped Olivia out of the cart onto the red carpet that led to the façade of a building that long windows on the side that were obscured by red, glowing curtains. As they walked closer, the awning that had burly bouncers standing guard under it read: Fairy Tails, in an old English font. Once they crossed the threshold into the main hallway that private parlour doors running down the walls to the end where there was a desk. At the desk sat Lee Jordan mulling over papers, and the closer Harry and Olivia made it to the mahogany desk, the base of the dance floor made their chest vibrate harder and harder.

"How can you work like this?" yelled out Harry to Lee.

"Wha…oh, Harry, it's you mate!" said Lee as he looked up and shook Harry's hand, "and please, who may this be?"

Olivia offered her hand, "Olivia Perks, my dad was the construction manager."

"And a good job he did, at that," replied Lee, "give him my thanks. I must give you both the tour, follow up."

He moved down a wide hallway to Harry's right to a ground blue lit dance floor that had some steel supports placed around it to hold up the steel square outline that was a cat walk made for dancing. There was a DJ against the far wall spinning records, the music going in tune with the flashing lights. The floor was packed with all young people dancing and swaying to there heart's content.

"Busy night?" asked Harry.

"Not at all," replied Lee as he looked over the crowd, "completely free for tonight, it attracted many people. Though do be prepared, because we will be doing dedication soon. If you don't want to give one, that's okay of course."

"I rather just blend in for the night," replied Harry, Olivia nodded in agreement.

"Alright then, well this is the Dance floor, and all the doors you see when entering are private parlours. See the back mirror that reflects? Well the people in the parlours can see out onto the dance floor," said Lee as he pointed to the side wall that reflected all of the dancers and lights, he then led them to a spiraling stair case that lead up to the catwalk, "up we go."

On top of the steel frame and fence linked floor of the cat walk, Harry and Olivia could see the entirety of the dance floor. The cat walk then had a ramp that lead to the pool and Jacuzzi area, with built in bar.

"This is were the extra money went to," replied Lee as he swept his arm out to the pool that looked to be filled near capacity with people dance to the house beat that was getting spun by the DJ, "I must say that this is one of the best parts of the place. The sides of the pool are Jacuzzis and you see that hut in the middle? That's the in pool bar. The chambers off to the sides are steam rooms. Quite nice place for relaxing."

"Can we meet the DJ?" asked Olivia excitedly.

"For you Miss. Perks, I will allow you to meet anyone in the establishment," replied Lee with a bow that brought his dreadlocks swinging forward.

They made their way back down to the floor and proceeded to the DJ platform. He was around Lee's age, with short cropped hair and a thin chin strap beard. There was a piercing in his left ear that changed colours continuously, but pulsed to the beat of the music. His clothing was a loose fighting button down shirt that only had the bottom button done, the rest was opened to show his black undershirt.

"Harry, Olivia, this is David Wimbledon," introduced Lee, "he always keeps the beat bouncing back and forth."

"Trying to take the piss out o' me name?" asked David as he put on a new record before greeting Harry and Olivia, "bit young for this crowd, eh?"

Lee coughed and rubbed his foot against the ground while saying, "Well…Harry…_contributed_ to the building of Fairy Tails."

"Blimey, you're the silent backer," replied David.

"Not so silent, some how the _Daily_ _Prophet_ got wind of it a few weeks ago," mumbled Harry.

"Don't read that rag, ever since it traced the music I played on the WWN," said David as he swept it aside.

"I think I like you already," replied Harry.

"Err…Mr. Wimbledon," began Olivia.

But she was cut off by David, "please don't call me that, ever again. I'm not old enough to be mister. Just David, or DJ Whim, if you want."

"Err…I was just wondering if you could play…" but Harry turned his attention away from Olivia when Lee tapped him on the shoulder.

"Harry, I know Dumbledore will disapprove of this, but he'll be leaving shortly."

"What, why is Dumbledore here?" asked Harry.

"He is a backer as well," replied Lee, "but he plans to leave after giving his speech. Anyway, what I was gonna say is that it's an open bar tonight, because everyone here is supposed to be seventeen or older. So…cheers, mate," finished Lee with a wink.

Olivia had returned from talking with the DJ. She had a glint in her eyes that Harry didn't quite like because it made him nervous. She slid her hand onto his shoulder, the other rested on his stomach. She leaned against his ear and whispered.

"Will you dance with me, Harry?"

He looked down into her eyes and took he hand from his stomach and led her to the dance floor, "sure."

They blended in the middle of the crowd swaying to another house beat that featured some violin in the background. The beat became faster and faster as everyone seemed to blend in together in one ball of hot, sweaty human flesh. Personally, Harry liked this a lot for several reasons; one, because he was invisible. No one, save for Olivia, Lee and the DJ knew he was there in the crowd. The second reason was that he got to spend the time with Olivia, a non-Hogwarts friend that he admitted was quite cute. Just as the crowd seemed to blend together, so did the night.

Harry could not remember anything except for dancing with Olivia and having a few drinks at the open bar. That could explain the banging in his head when he woke up to the dim light that was seeping in through the curtains and the chill that was running up his back. Through his pounding head and blury eyes, Harry fumbled around for his glasses, which were on the night stand, and perched them on his nose. He looked down and gasped, before rolling off the bed and hitting the floor. He was completely naked, _no wonder I felt cold!_ Harry quickly scanned the room for his clothes, finding them bunched up on the trunk infront of the bed.

Harry quickly jumped into his boxers and was putting his right leg into his blue cargo pants when there was a groan from the tangle of sheets. _Shite! What did I do now!_ thought Harry as he pulled his pants up latched the belt. From the sheets emerged the brunette with a nose, lip, eye brow and, as Harry found out last night, tongue ringed cutie with a blue butterfly tattoo on her right cheek. _I slept with Olivia, dear Merlin,_ thought Harry and then shook his head, _I could have done worse...but our friendship..._

"Morning, Harry," said Olivia with a slightly smile, "last night was pretty crazy, no?"

Harry sat down at the end of the bed, "I'm not gonna lie, I don't even remember half of it."

Olivia chuckled, "that makes two of us," then she looked at her naked state and Harry's half dressed state, "I can guess one thing that we did."

"About that, Olivia," said Harry, "I really don't want that to change..."

"Our friendship?" asked Olivia and Harry nodded, "neither do I, Harry, and I'm not really the girlfriend type," Harry tried to disagree, but Olivia quited him, "what I mean is that I don't want to be a girlfriend, I'm not into that doing up my hair and giddy school girl stuff. I'm good with being friends, and if we want benefits...maybe that could be worked out."

"Friends with...benefits?" questioned the bespectacled teenager.

Olivia pushed him off the bed and laughed, "you dope, like what happened last night. Dancing, drinking and a little fun. That's what friends with benefits means."

"Oh," said Harry _doesn't sound like a 'bad' idea_, "I dunno."

Olivia shook her head as she put her black tank top on, "where are we anyway?"

Harry was about to answer when there was a knock on the door. Harry checked Olivia, who was sliding her jeans up her bare bottom, apparently she went commando. Harry motioned to the door, there was another knock, and Olivia nodded as she put her hair into a low pony tail. Harry flicked his wrist to call forth his wand from his holder and leaned against the the unhinged side of the door.

"Come in," he called as Olivia gave him a queer look.

The door opened and in walked Lee holding a platter of eggs and pumpkin juice, "morning you two sleepy heads...," Lee looked around the room to only see Olivia who pointed to the door way; he turned around and nearly dropped the tray, "cor, Harry! Don't do that!"

"Sorry, Lee," said Harry as he put his wand away, "can't be too safe, you know."

"Quite true," said the dredlocked club owner as he placed the tray of food on the trunk and through Harry his black collared shirt.

Harry caught it and put it on, "where are we, anyway, Lee?"

"Oh, sorry about that," said Lee ashe sat on the bed, "wait a tic, you two did it...," Lee shuddered and then moved to sit on a chair in near a desk in a corner, "sorry, couldn't sit in your muck."

"My muck is quite nice, I must say," said Olivia as she sat down on the bed.

"I'm sure of it, Luv," replied Lee, "anywho, you two were so smashed last night, the Twins, I and Dumbledore agreed that you two would rest it off here."

"Where is here?" asked Harry, "and Dumbledore saw me drunk last night?"

"Everyone saw you drunk Harry," replied Lee, "don't worry, we didn't allow you to do anything heinous. Oh, and this is the best part of the club, your own personal room."

"My own personal room," question Harry, "why would I want that," Lee looked over at Olivia, "Oh..."

"Anyway, I took personal responsibility for getting you two back, after you finish with your meal, take some floo powder and return home," said Lee as he got up to go, "see you two later."

"Lee," said Harry as he put on his leather jacket, the dreadlocked partner turned around, "thank you...partner."  
Lee smiled, "no problem, Har. Don't forget to visit," with a wink, Lee walked out of the room; Harry and Olivia then ate their breakfast before returning, Olivia to her house and Harry to the Gryffindor Common Room.

As Harry steped out, he saw the rest of the sixth years hanging out about the fire because it was too cold to hang around outside. They all looked up, Seamus letting out a low whistle.

"Good morning to you all," said Harry as he flopped down into an empty arm chair.

"Long night, mate?" asked Ron with a cheeky smile.

"By the look of the lipstick on his neck, it twas a good morning at least," said Neville softly as the others laughed.

"Do tell, Mr. Potter, who was it?" asked Parvati.

"A friend," answered Harry, "just a friend."

"And are we not friends?" asked the Indian beauty.

"She's got you there," said Dean as he got up and went back up to the rooms.

"And where might you be going, dear Dean," asked Lavender.

"Sun Gao asked to see me," said Dean, "something important, I'll be back, do not fear, luv."

"So are you going to tell us who she was?" asked Hermione.

"Nope," said Harry, "But I am going to see if Dumbledore is around."

"Why..."

"I need to talk to him," said Harry, "I need some information."

"You ask information of Dumbledore?" question Seamus.

"I ask of what he should have told me already," rejoined Harry as he got up to go.

"Is he always this way after he's gotten some?" asked Seamus to Ron.

"It's a long story, mate," said Ron, "best not get into it," Seamus nodded as he watched Harry walk through the portrait hole on his way to Dumbledore's office.

**

* * *

A/N:** I hope this is a good Holiday present for you all.

I say this now, Harry and Olivia are not going out. They are not shiped together, nor will they ever be.

The introduction of Fenrir Greyback, we'll see more of him before New Years Day.

The Unbound Creators Guild are a play of words of the Freemasons Guild. Though their behavoir is not the same. And how does Gudgeon fit in with them?

At this time, I shall show my thanks to **Tmctflyboy**, **The Lady Reaper of the Shadows**, **BlackStar**, **Ansku**, **HarryReader**, and **sirius009** for being loyal readers and reviewers.

Have a Happy Happy,  
forfie.


	18. Nature of the Beast

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and the whole entire Magical World are the creation of JK Rowling. If you have seen it before, whether from the books, movies, or Ms. Rowling's website, then it is not mine. Ocs, plot line, and major themes are my ideas.

This is the unbeta'd version

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
by Forfie

Chapter 18.) Nature of the Beast

Walking to Dumbledore's office served several purposes to Harry. One being able to get away from the interrogation from the girls, as well as having to recount last night's actions; and also to collect himself introspectively to gain some well needed information from the Headmaster. Specifically, Harry wished to apologize about the prior evening, and he also wanted to Dumbledore about any new information on the Zansteps or anything else for that matter. Giving the gargoyle the confectionary password of the month, Harry proceeded up the spiraling staircase.

"Come in, Harry," called Dumbledore through the oaken door, of which Harry stepped through to see the aged Headmaster sitting behind his desk with a bemused smile, "up so early I see, I do hope you were able to get back accordingly."

"Lee provided Olivia and I with some Floo Powder," said Harry.

"Ah, and how is Miss. Perks?" asked Dumbledore as he leaned back in his winged back chair, "last night was the first time I had seen her since her regretful departure. Alas, there is only so much one can do when monetary issues effect all aspects of ones life."

"Though it will be helped out now because all requirements for buildings will be funneled through the Perks family," said Harry.

"Though your new business no doubt," replied Dumbledore, "I'm glad to see that you saw the venture that Fred and George Weasley put together. Rather ingenious, quite brilliant, those two. However, there was one piece of information that I found quite fascinating in a conversation with Mr. Perks. Apparently he is scheduled to leave Britain for awhile on a combined venture for the Ministries of England, Iceland, Norway, Greenland, Canada and Russia. I do say, why is Marauder Inc. losing their partner construction team for such a long period of time with out consulting the head?"

_Damnit! I promised Felicis, but Dumbledore should know_; "all right, professor, I'll tell you. I made a promise not to tell, but I figure this will be...and acceptable reason," said Harry, "in a joint venture, all the ministries that you mentioned, as well as myself, will be building a new prison."

"To replace Azkaban," commented Dumbledore to himself.

"The details do not need to be gone over, I'm sure Fudge will be more willing to tell you now, anyhow," said Harry, "if you don't mind, I 'd like to ask about the Zansteps."

Dumbledore smiled faintly and nodded, "you may inquire."

"What happened to them," asked Harry plainly.

"They were the sacrificial lambs to Voldemort's manipulations in Russia," began Dumbledore, "our agents that are observing the Russian government can see that there is some form of high level corruption in his favor. Through this, the Zanstep force was nearly eliminated in an elaborately set up gambit. Is there anything else you might want to ask me about the Zansteps, or Russia?"

"When you said our agents, did you mean Remus?" asked Harry.

"Remus is considered an agent in the field, yes," rejoined Dumbledore as he steepled his fingers, "but he is not the one in the government, that lies with Mr. Krum and several of his friends. They were most eager to take up our cause, and their information has been invaluable. I dear say it shows some true character for Mr. Krum to turn down several Quidditch offers to help the war."

"Something just doesn't seem...right," said Harry as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Alcohol does have that effect, Harry," replied Dumbledore, "and though I do hold to the legal issues when concerned to underage drinking, especially in excess, some indulgences are allowable, every once and awhile."

"I'm sorry about last night, sir."

"It' is quite all right, Harry," said the old mentor, "just try not to make a habit of it. Keep in mind that you are not just yourself, but the embodiment of your parents, Sirius, Remus, Hogwarts, and to some small degree I would like to think, myself, if you would do me such an honor."

"Sir, don't you think this a bit much to heave on my shoulders?" asked Harry.

"We are not asked to carry the world affixed upon our shoulders, Harry," said Dumbledore soberly, "but our actions should not disgrace the ones that care about us, and vis versa."

"I apologize profusely, Professor Dumbledore," said Harry sternly, "I hope I did not cause a major scene."

"No scene was had," said Dumbledore in and equal tone, "for you have many people watching out for you."

_And what if I do not want to be watched out for_, thought Harry as he leaned back into the chair across from Dumbledore, "sir, I was also wondering about one thing," Dumbledore nodded for Harry to continue. "Err...a few days ago, Professor Gudgeon gave me a book with no name..."

Dumbledore looked at Harry with a straight face, moistening his lips with his tongue, "does this book seem to pose a threat?"

"No, sir," said Harry, _it isn't like Riddle's Diary_, "it just mentioned a... guild of individuals... the Unbound Creators Guild."

"I have not heard of them," replied Dumbledore.

"That's all I was wondering," said Harry, "so you didn't put him up to it?"

"I have not asked of anything from Professor Gudgeon except to teach Creation," replied Dumbledore, "though I am somewhat interested in this book. Perhaps you will allow me to view it?"

I_t's one of a kind; don't let it fall into anyone else's hands_, were the words Gudgeon had used, "I'm sorry sir, I need it for a project."

"I understand, good reference material is certainly hard to come by," said Dumbledore, "though that does remind me... Harry, would you be open to the idea of getting tutored by me?"

_Shouldn't you have done this from the beginning?_ Thought Harry rather vehemently, "why now?"

"No better time then the present," replied Dumbledore.

"That's not what I mean and you damn will know it, Dumbledore," said Harry strongly.

"I have made grievous errors, Harry, I admit," said the aged Professor, "perhaps you will be able to forgive me for them. The past can not be changed, though it can be used to influence the future."

Harry help his head in his hands, thoughts of all the extra work he had to do now for Gudgeon, Sun Gao, as well as Quidditch flying through his head; "I dunno, I'm rather busy..."

"I do not want to force you into it," said Dumbledore, "but I assure you, Harry, there is enough time for everything."

"Will this prepare me for Voldemort?" asked Harry.

"If my theories are correct," said Dumbledore.

"Theories?" questioned Harry skeptically.

"I shall confirm them during the winter break," acquiesced Dumbledore.

"And is that when our lessons are to begin?" asked Harry.

"I'm quite certain we will both be free then," said Dumbledore, "pending any major attacks or festive follies. My heart aches that this will be the first Christmas without the gayety of Misters Weasley. I nearly forgot," said Dumbledore, "but I do have a surprise planned for you and the school soon. Mum's the word though."

"I think I be best on my way," said Harry as he looked at his wrist watch.

"Quite so," said Dumbledore as he raised from the seat to usher Harry to the door, "oh, and Dobby sends word that all the preparations are finished, what ever that is to mean," the every present twinkle in the old man's eye.

Ω∞†∞Ω

With the word from Dobby that the Chamber was completed, there was no excuse for Harry to put off the D.A. any longer. A week after telling Hermione and Ron the new base of operation for Dumbledore's Army, both of which thought it was a smashing albeit creepy place for the task. The major hurdle was trying to convince Ginny because of her history with the place. After some wheedling about the change of décor, removal of skeletons, and how it will help her Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., she whole heartily thought it a good idea. It was Hermione that organized the students, by sending out individual owls saying to meet at the second floor girls water closet.

Harry also had a little side mission, that of trying to get several individuals to join the club. He felt that there would be some opposition, but he first wanted to talk it over with them. That is why we found the messy haired teenager waiting in the old Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He had written short notes to the ones on Dumbledore's list, not including Malfoy or Goyle because he thought the prospect of them joining was low, and some other desirable too. That meant Zabini, Davis, Fawcett, Turpin, Edgecombe, and at the request of Ron because 'she was quite brilliant', Anita Johnson. Sitting on top the front desk, the door opened for Zabini and Davis to come into the classroom.

"I hope this is good, Potter," said Zabini as he spiked up his blonde hair a bit and took a seat.

"Please just take a seat and wait for the others," replied Harry, "oh, and thanks for coming."

Zabini turned a desk chair around and sat in it folding his arms on the back. Davis primly sat on a desktop and crossed her legs at the knee. A few minutes passed by in silence as the next two, Marietta and Lisa, arrived. Harry had made sure that Cho had passed the word on to Marietta about rejoin, her arrival clearly meant she was interested. It took a whole ten minutes, for the last two to arrive Sarah and Anita. Everyone looked around at the eclectic bunch that sat around the former Defense Against the Dark Arts room.

Harry sighed heavily, "you all might be wondering what we are doing here," he said.

"It would help if you had told us," mumbled Zabini, Davis elbowed him discreetly.

"Consider this an invitation to a club," said Harry slowly, "some of you might have heard about it, but most do not know what actually occurs. It is secret, it is helpful, and it is all necessary. In the times that we will be entering, all of us will need protection. And...err...the best kind of protection is from yourself. That sounds a bit odd. Anywho, this club will teach you that, as well as allow you to bond with trustworthy people. Any questions?"

"Are you serious?" said Zabini, "you think some kids and wands can help the world? Grow up man, there's a war coming, and we are gonna get caught up in the maelstrom and spit out either dead or with serve injuries."

"The point is to avoid that," said Turpin, "and the only way to when is with more people."

"And do you know who has more people? The Dark Lord does!" shouted Blaise.

"Blaise," warned Davis, "not here."

"It's hopeless," he mumbled.

"Is this the only argument?" asked Harry, "does everyone else wish to join?"

There were nods from the five other occupants of the room. Blaise, seeing them all agree, including his friend Tracey Davis, exclaimed "_bugger all,_ sure why not."

Harry clapped his hands together, "good, lets get out of here," he stood up and opened the door for the rest of them.

"Is that it," asked Zabini, "just hook us and then throw us back, aye?"

"No, we're going to the meeting," said Harry standing on the threshold of the hallway.

"I thought this was the meeting," said Fawcett.

"It was test, or atleast a way for them to make sure we were interest with out giving away the location," said Turpin, "Hermione's idea probably."

"It's in the weird seventh floor room, the one next to the fruit trying to teach trolls ballet," said Tracey Davis, Harry gave her a 'how did you know that look', "well... Malfoy and his lot were telling all about how he busted you guys there. Right little snot likes to brag a lot."

They were walking to the second floor girls room together, Harry being the only one that truly new the way, and since it was only 7:30, there was no need to fear anyone spotting them. They arrived at the loo easily, the only commotion was being caused by Blaise about how it was a "_GIRLS_ bathroom". Harry knocked on the door waited two seconds for the reply knock, which came with must gusto as it was tapping out a song. Harry opened the door and ushered the new entries in.

"Ron, could you have any more tact?" asked Harry.

"I thought that _You Put a Spell on Me_ by the Weird Sisters to be a very tactful code," said the red head.

Harry sighed, "Hermione still down there with the others?"

"Yeah, few more came while you were out," said Ron, "the place is amazing. I knew Dobby was amazing, but this seems a tad too much."

"When do we get to see this place?" asked Blaise, "I mean all this secrecy for a girls loo? Bit too much is right."

Ron snorted and looked at Harry, "are you _sure_ Dumbledore wanted _this _lot?"

"Ron," said Harry as he tilted his head to the side, "do you have the parchment?"

Ron grumbled and produced the original parchment that had been used in in the Hogs Head nearly a year ago, "to gain entrance to the D.A., you must all sign this piece of parchment."

"This isn't like Sun Gao's is it?" asked Lisa hesitantly.

"Sort of, call it an insurance policy," Harry turned to Marietta sympathetically, "can you please remove the shawl covering your face," Marietta nodded and removed the shawl to show the heavily make-upped purple zit like spots that spelled out SNEAK. She redid the shawl to cover them again, "if you tell anyone of this place, the club, or anything at all that might implement anyone from the group, then you will be marked for all to see. You have to sign this to get in."

All of them were slightly edgy at having to sign the parchment. But none hesitated to sign their name. As the ink was drying there was a soft golden light that was emanating from under Marietta's shawl. The other girls pointed and gasped causing Marietta to remove her shawl and look in the mirror above the taps. The word SNEAK that was dotted onto her forehead slowly vanished into a golden light. She squeaked with enthusiasm as she felt her forehead, laughing and crying in happiness, running the tap and washing away the caked make up.

"It's time to go," said Harry as he leaned over to the S-bend and whispered to the snake etching in parseltongue. Ron stepped into the opening as the stairs started their move all the way down a tunnel that had an occasional torch marking the way. The others stepped onto the stone escalator as well, Harry being the last, with the entrance sealing behind him. The escalator made it's way down, gaining speed, but not throwing anyone off.

"What is this place?" called out Zabini.

"You'll see," said Harry as the ten minute escalator ride ended with everyone milling about a circular anti-chamber that had torch brackets on the walls filling it with flickering orange light. The most ominous part was the royal purple curtained that hung between a ten foot tall, seven foot wide stone archway. Harry swept the curtain aside, "welcome to the Chamber of Secrets."

Zabini, Davis, Fawcett, Turpin, Edgecombe and Johnson stood in awe of the cleared flagstone hallway that had a large wooden chandler that illuminated the large open doorway that was emblazoned with large snake figurines. They stepped forward as Harry and Ron lead them to the doorway that was the entrance to the main chamber. Looking in, the broken pillars and rubble did not take away from the power the vaulted room was exhibiting. Sitting in front of a royal violet banner that was covering the effigy of Salazaar Slytherin were the rest of the D.A.

They stood up from their cushions to look at Harry and the others, some expressing disgust, others expressing curiosity. Harry lead them to the sitting area.

"What are they doing here," question Zacharias Smith, pointing his finger to Blaise and Tracey.

"We were invited," sneered Blaise.

"By who," questioned the haughty Hufflepuff.

"By Dumbledore," said Harry as he walk forward and leaned against one of the remaining erect pillars, "sit down Smith."

"But they're Slytherins," said Smith.

"I said the same thing," said Ron as he went to go sit down.

"And Marietta betrayed us," pointed out someone from the crowd that sounded an awful lot like Katie Bell.

"Enough," said Harry loudly so that it echoed around the chamber, "this they are here on Dumbledore's wish, and from what I have seen them do, they will add greatly to us. Accept them, or leave, that is the only condition. Keep in mind that soon there will be a war on our doorstep, which we will all be a part of. The choice is now."

Everyone looked at each other but remained seated. Harry motioned for the new member to sit on the remaining cushions. Most tried to ignore them, some glances were passed their way that showed the overall welcoming of the crowd. Harry sighed, _when will this division end?_

"Alright," said Harry, "before Hermione goes over the minutes of the last time we met. This," Harry motioned to the whole of the chamber, "is the Chamber of Secrets. It was created by Salazaar Slytherin to hide his pet basilisk, that would be released by his descendant to 'cleanse' the school. That descendant was Voldemort and as most of you should know, the basilisk is dead. After cleaning up, this is the new and permeant home for Dumbledore's Army..."

Blaise snorted and whispered to Tracey, Ernie turned to them, "if you have something important to say, say it to us all."

Zabini glared at Macmillan with utter loathing, "if you must know, I was commenting on the group's name."

"What of it?" voiced someone from the group.

"It sounds good a name as any to me," said Cho.

"Fine, I wanted Hermione to do this, but we'll have a vote," said Harry, "who wants to keep the name, Dumbledore's Army, D.A. For short," everyone except for Blaise and Tracey raised their hands, "settled then, it's still the D.A. Next, there is a little change that will be made to the D.A., nothing major though. We will be working on more real life scenarios, such as open dueling, multiple opponents at once, and a full out tactical display. We want you to be able to work in groups, by yourself and against many people. The Death Eaters won't play fair, therefore we have to be ready."

"You make it sound like we are going to go out there an fight them," said Dennis Creevey meekly.

"We are," said Hermione, "face it, we are all close to our last year in Hogwarts, one way or another, and our hand will ultimately be forced in to this conflict. This is not about O.W.L.s now, so much as survival."

"Hermione's right," said Susan, "Auntie told me about certain propaganda the Ministry will be putting out to boost Auror entrance."

"Do you all see the importance for all of us to be here," said Harry, "for _all _of us to work _together_. That is the new plans for the D.A., please pay attention, specially to Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Anthony, Michael, Dean, Luna and anyone else here who might have faced Death Eaters. The small amount of experience we hold collectively will be helpful to all. We will also have the help of an Auror. Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody gifted his personal journal to me over the summer, of which I have memorized. That is where we shall be learning from. Uh... Hermione, it's your turn."

"Right," said Hermione as she stood up with a parchment and quill, "well... um... to be fair, to put it to vote once again, all in favor for Harry leading us, please raise your hands," Harry didn't look up to see the amount of hands and was practicing a quick draw move from his wand holster. "Settled than, Harry will remain the leader... okay, well, last time we were practicing the Patronus Charm... should be a good starting point now."

"Okay, pair up and be supportive of each other," said Harry as he got away from the pillar slowly, "remember that the key to the Patronus Charm is not the incantation, but to think happy thoughts. You have to visualize this memory and call forth your Patronus. The incantation is Expecto Patronum. Come on people, get a move on."

The D.A. scattered into pairs working while Harry directed them and gave some helps. Hermione, Cho and some others that had already been proficient at casting, walked around helping along side Harry. Overall, it was a very productive session, Neville and Seamus producing a good amount silvery mist that was boarding a corporeal body. The most amazing break through had been Ron, when he produced a fully corporeal Patronus.

Of a Jack Russell terrier...

"Blimey, mate, bit dinky ain't it?" said Seamus as he looked at the prancing yippy dog.

"Stuff it," grumbled Ron.

"I think it's kinda cute," said Sarah Fawcett as the silvery Jack Russell tilted it's head in a confused manner, "aww, it acts just like you!"

"Quit takin' the piss out of me," said the upset red head.

"The size of the Patronus doesn't matter, Ronald," said Luna with a wink, "as long as it gets the job done."

The students in the immediate area broke out in a loud side splitting laughter at the obvious sexual undertones implied by Luna's quip. Ron turned his classic shade of Weasley red and kept his lips tighter than usual. The Patronus session finished shortly after that, Ron keeping adversely quiet. Harry checked his watch and saw that it was a few minutes to the 9:00 o'clock curfew.

Clapping his hands together, Harry got the attention of the class, "I need three people from my Defense Against the Dark Arts class," instantly the whole of Harry's class raise their hands, "Bones, Patil and Zabini. You three will be attacking. Goldstein, you'll be my partner. On the count of three, you will come after me and Goldstein, no lethal force of any kind or any spell that will maim. Understood? Good. Hermione, if you would please give a count."

Harry grabbed Goldstein and ran down to the other end and behind a pillar, "Everyone, make sure to watch, it'll be a quick lesson in observation," Harry turned to Anthony, "do you know the Disillusionment Charm?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to make your shoes hover, so as not to make a noise against the flagstone, _volteggiare_," whispered Harry causing Anthony and then himself to lift off the ground, they tapped their wands on there heads and were then nearly invisible in the orange glow of the chandeliers.

"Three," shouted out Hermione.

Bones, Patil and Zabini made a triangle with Susan in front, Blaise to her right and Patil to the left. The stepped forward slowly down the middle aisle, checking the shadows behind the pillars. Harry, with Anthony holding onto his cloak so as to not get lost or separated, saw the three from a side pillar as the walked right past them. Harry cast a silencing charm softly and broke a piece off. He walked, with Anthony trailing, to be behind the group and to the right., and tossed the stone against the wall.

All three turned their heads, Susan motioned to the area where the noise came from. Blaise shook his head.

"Set up, I wouldn't go and check it out," he said, Susan had an exasperated look on her face and turned to Padma, who also shook her head.

"Fine, cover me, atleast," she said as she headed to the pillar.

Blaise shrugged oriented himself to look at all other angles that would be on their six. Padma inched forward and covered Susan's immediate back. Susan inched forward till she hit the end wall and check both sides twice. She turned back to Patil and Zabini.

"Clear," she said, as the other two turned away; Harry walked up to her and held his wand next to her head.

"_Stupefy_," he whispered as a short flash of red light hit her head, knocking her unconscious, as he reached out and held her up, slowly lowering her to the floor.

The brief flash of light was in the corner of Zabini's eye. He tensed and saw in time the impression of a hand on Susan's cloak lowering her down. He motioned for Padma.

"Disillusionment Charms," he whispered, "spray some water in the corner and we can find them."

Padma nodded and took the pillar for cover as she sprayed water in the area around Susan looking for foot prints. Because of the hover charm, Harry and Anthony were not easy to find that way. They had snuck around the same pillar and were facing Padma's back. Harry had his hand on Anthony's chest, warning him not to fire because Zabini would see them. Zabini turned away for a brief second and Harry took his hand away from Anthony's chest.

Just as the incantation _stupefy_ was on Goldstein's lips, Zabini turned back around to check on his partner. Harry tried to warn Goldstein, but it was too late, the red beam of light left his wand, giving up his position and take down Padma. She fell hard against the flagstone floor. Zabini quickly took down Goldstein before he could even know what was going on.

"Take off the guise, Potter," said Zabini as Goldstein flicked from the disillusionment.

Harry took down the disillusionment and canceled the hovering charm, "good job, Zabini. Dumbledore was right about you," they started circling each other.

"When you're trained by your farther form the moment of birth, you tend to be really good," sneered Blaise, "are you as good Malfoy believes?"

"We shall find out," said Harry, "_expello_."

Zabini jumped the five inches to clear the spell, "_avis_."

The flock of birds flew right right at Harry, causing him to duck and roll forward, "_protego_..._balbettare_!"

Zabini was surprised by Harry's knowledge of the babbling curse and knew it would be fruitless to try and take it off, because the only thing that could come out of his mouth would be nonsense. Pocketing his wand, Zabini charge Harry full on, tackling him flat out. Harry's wand rolled away as Zabini tried a neck pin by placing his knee on Harry's windpipe and holding his ankle and right arm.

Gasping for breath, Harry raised his free left hand and punched upwards between Zabini's leg. Blaise gasped and fell forward holding his groin in pain. Harry slid away and tried to stand up as he regained his breath, Zabini did the same. Both of them hunched over and breathing hard.

"That was a pretty dirty move, Blaise," said Harry in-between breaths.

"Goo flagauhart bluchshaw," said Blaise and then held his mouth in embarrassment.

"My shot was dirty too," agreed Harry, both met each other's eye and raced forward grabbing each others shoulders hard.

They tried to push each other down as they side stepped in a circle. Harry threw his right foot behind Zabini's right calf and tripped the Slytherin backwards. Blaise landed on his back and planted his feet on Harry's sternum flipping him over behind him. Harry landed hard on his back and let out a moan, he had not expected that.

Harry turned around and grabbed Blaise from behind in a full nelson, pushing him forward, forcing him onto his knees. Zabini was completely prostrated in the pin and could not get out of it. Ron, Hermione and several others ran out towards them.

"Harry!" yelled Hermione, "Zabini's tapped out! It's Over!"

Harry let go as Blaise fell forward take deep breaths. The raven haired teenager stood up and walked away from the crowd, cracking his neck by pushing the palm of his hand up against his jaw. Shaking his arms, he turned back and picked up his wand and holstered it. He turned to the crowd as the group assembled in front of him, Susan, Padma and Anthony had been awoken. Blaise was leaning heavily against his friend Tracey.

Harry walked over to him and outstretched his hand. Zabini looked at it as if it were a foreign object or a strange custom he had never seen before. Tracey elbowed him in the ribs causing him to wince. He shook Harry's hand in a standard double pump professional motion. Harry nodded and then did the counter curse for the babbling hex he had put on Zabini.

"Sorry about all that, just got caught up in it," said Harry.

"Understandable," said Blaise, "will should do this again sometime."

Harry clapped him on the shoulder and nodded before addressing the crowd, "did you all see what happened? I guarantee that fighting Death Eaters would be way worse. They seek to kill. We weren't, and you saw how heated we got. Lessons over, newbies, get your coins from Hermione, she'll explain them. Have a good night's sleep, and travel the halls safely."

As everyone was leaving, Ron and Hermione stood behind to help Harry clean up. Harry charmed all the cushions to pile in the corner of the room. Then he repaired the pillar he had broken a piece from.

"Can we talk to you, Harry," asked Hermione.

"You can always talk with me," said Harry as he started to leave the main chamber and closed the doors.

"What the bloody hell was that back there," said Ron, "Harry, it's like you're training for the army!"

Harry grabbed onto a the stones of an archway, moved the curtain slightly to see if everyone was gone, "what I tell you doesn't leave here."

"Okay, Harry," said Hermione.

"You can trust us," said Ron.

"When I mean no one, I mean no one," said Harry, "not family, not professors, not even Dumbledore. My telling you will break a vow I made, and it was in trust of my honor. That is how much I'm trusting you."

"Don't worry," said Hermione, "we won't tell at all."

Harry sighed, "what Susan said was true. The ministry is boosting up the Aurors."

"Harry we know this already," said Hermione, "it's been in the paper for awhile now."

"But it's more than that," said Harry pinching the bridge of his nose, "the Minister of War, Felix Felicis, and Fudge have started a new branch of military called M.A.G.E. The Magical Army of Greater England. It would be a standing army, the Aurors would be pushed to a special operations task force."

"But how will they get people for M.A.G.E.?" questioned Hermione, "unless they..."

"Constitute a draft during the summer," said Harry, "for anyone that is seventeen to thirty-four and not enrolled in an institution of learning. Felicis said that volunteers were welcomed as well."

"But... but..." stammered Hermione.

"That is definitely illegal," said Ron.

"It's not, Fudge signed off on it," said Harry, "it'll be put into law sometime in July."

"That's... murder!" exclaimed Hermione, "forcing all those people... forcing us to fight. It can't be."

"Hermione, you said it yourself, we all have to fight," said Harry, "this just confirms it."

"But," said Hermione.

"Not another word," said Harry, "we practice, learn and train. Constantly. No expectations."

"Okay," said Ron, "I'm game."

"This is just so..."

"Hermione!"

"Oh, okay," said the bushy haired teenage girl, "you know I'm with you both."

"Good," said Harry, "let's get out of here, it's past curfew."

Ω∞†∞Ω

Harry walked into Intelligent and Sentient Beings a week later and took his seat next to Hermione. He had been a few minutes late because he needed to finish some last minute notes on the essay he was to hand in. The homework for the previous week had been focused on vampires. The most available text for the assignment had been _Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires _by Eldred Worple, which was a completely wizard biased text. However, today was a whole new level in the class's topic because, making good on his promise, Professor Beamish had somehow gotten a vampire to lecture about his culture.

Harry noticed that a good portion of the class was missing. It being a small class, anyone missing would be quite noticeable, and currently Bulstrode, Boot, Nott and Abbott were missing. Beamish seemed nervous as he drew the curtains to the windows.

"Today, we have a special guest," said Beamish, his Adams apple bouncing with every word, "he asks to remain nameless and his voice is altered. He is a real vampire from the Black Forest of the Siberian Plateau."

"If he doesn't have a name," said Hermione, "what shall we refer to him as?"

Beamish looked surprised, "um... call him... Ivan," the class nodded and he opened the door to his office, "they're ready."

"Very well," came a reply from the darkness in an indistinguishable voice.

The class looked on as a heavily black cloaked figure emerged from the next room. The last time Harry had seen a cloak like that was when he caught Ratai talking with Sun Gao, but cloaks being as numerous in the wizarding world as costumes at a Star Trek convention, he thought nothing of it. The hooded head scanned the crowd and seemed to stop momentarily on each individual face, considering the only people in the class were Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, Padma Patil, Hermione, Neville, Dean and Harry, 'Ivan' didn't have many faces to make contact with.

"Please make yourself at ease, Mr... Ivan," said Beamish as he motioned to the chair in the front of the room, "I made sure to block the sun's light so you wouldn't have to wear that awfully thick cloak."

"I'll keep it on, Algernon," said the figure, Ivan, "it is rather chilly day."

Beamish gulped visibly as he sat by a window, "err... quite true. Perhaps... we shall begin. Are there any opening questions?"

Hermione raised her hand instantly, "I thought Dumbledore wouldn't allow a vampire into the castle?"

The class stiffened at the question, all looking to see any reaction from the visitor; Beamish seemed a bit horrified at the question but the figure laughed cooly, the spell that altered his voice also altered the laugh, "that is a good question. The Headmaster knows the possible threat a vampire can pose, but I and a friend have given him assurance that nothing like suck will happen while I'm here. In fact, he has granted me temporary residence because of my... situation."

"What situation is that, sir," asked Padma.

"One that you shall not find out," he answered.

The class remained quite for a long time, no one wanting to ask a question, "am I to take this as a starting point? How many here actually know about vampires?" no one raised their hand in fear on giving a stupid answer, "good, the doubt you display in the current consensus is quite admirable. Public order would have you believe that vampires are evil, cruel and sadistic. The current truth is that the average vampire does not kill or even bite a human in his or hers life.

"This may seem like a shock to your cultural belief, but it is true. The public only pays attention to the shocking and outlandish, this I am certain you can all ascertain for yourself," several of the students nodded their heads. "aye, and in there lies the rub. No one would find a story writing or lecturing about the nominal life that the majority of vampires lead. Instead they empower and glorify the ones that get peoples attention. And what besides sex gets peoples' attention? Murder, death, blood spraying insane creatures of the night that have the possible potential of attacking you. The crowd can be found looking at the devastating accident instead of the natural miracles of everyday existence.

"Vampires normally will only feed on the blood animals that were ruled a long time ago to be less intelligent or sub intelligent. This includes rats, dogs, cats, deer, moose, horse and any magical derivative there of. This also brings to the long standing hatred and blood war between Vampires and Centaurs because the Centaurs see and affirm themselves to being animals. Therefore, we agreed with them and started to treat them like animals, in the sense that through their decision they made themselves into a viable food source for us. They disagreed and will defend themselves at all costs against any possible Vampire, which includes preemptive assaults.

"I will not deny that some of our culture will seem odd to you, but there is somethings that vampires and humans can not equally tolerate. That being mindless killing. We kill to survive, just as you eat chicken and beef to survive. However, we also have the ability to realize that cannibalism is wrong, by nature, because we were once all human. The vampires that are publicized to go on killing sprees amongst muggles and wizards are shunned and ostracized from the vampiric community. I believe one of the best examples of this is Sanguini d'Bologna, who after living with Eldred Worple for a long period time, was demented to the point of killing and drinking seventeen Italian prostitutes. He has not been caught yet, but Mr. Worple is desperately making pleas to the Italian Ministry of Magic to drop any charges against his 'brother'.

"Do you all have an understanding on how the few extreme cases damn the rest of us?" asked the vampire, "it would be like Death Eaters representing all of wizarding kind. Untrue and unjust assumption."

"So that is why wizards and muggles fear vampires?" asked Ernie Macmillan.

"Partly," said Ivan, "muggles don't fear vampires because they do not believe in us. Though stories of Dragula and Lady Carmilla excite them, they do not know we are real. Wizards fear what they do not understand. The main fear comes with becoming a vampire, that is, to be bitten. However, it is not the bite that is a curse but the illness.

"After many years of personal research, it has been noted that vampirism is a cursed illness, similar to lycanthropic disease for werewolves and any sexually transmitted illnesses for humans."

"So sucking blood is like getting the clap?" asked Ernie in disbelief.

The class would have laughed it wasn't so nervous, Ivan stared long into Macmillan's eyes before continuing, "in the sense that it mutates the body in a way as for the illness to survive and be able to flourish. Just like sores for herpes, pus ejects for gonorrhea and saliva exchange for werewolves.

"The illness that effects vampires has some key symptoms. The most common is longer life expectancy, the longest being Anat of Egypt who lived for five hundred sixty-six years after being bitten. I myself will be entering my fifty-first year, I was bitten when I was twenty-nine, so I am eighty years old, technically. The plus side is that you physically age one year for every twenty years. So I should only look like I'm thirty-two.

"Speed and agility is enhanced greatly so that you are able to hunt down prey faster. You can not fly nor transform into animals nor wield any magic. That is another point, only wizards and witches can become vampires because it is the magical energy that is transformed and redirected to give these 'powers'. When a wizard is bitten by a vampire, it takes three days for the transformation to be final. The first day is normal behavior, the second day is functional but with a high fever as the internal system starts to change, the third day is a coma when the vast changes occur and then you wake up.

"There are down sides," said Ivan with a sigh, "allergy to light causing to break out in horrific boils and evaporating all hydration from the body. Allergy towards garlic causing cold-like symptoms like congestion, sneezing and sluggishness. Vampires can not bear children. Despite myths, limbs can not be regenerated. The only way for a vampire to be killed is through decapitation or the removal of the heart. The whole stake through the heart is a myth, it will not kill, but was used to pin the vampire down for head removal.

"The idea that Christian crosses are painful or deadly is ridiculous," said Ivan as he shook his head in disgust, "there is history there, however. From the tales I've been told, in 321 B.C., Alexander the Great sacked a whole island in that refused to bend to his will. He crucified all three thousand and lined them on the beach out looking their island city as it burned. It was a vampiric city and all the inhabitants were brutally murdered through forced sun exposure as they watched their city die out. Seeing a cross to a vampire is like a holocaust survivor seeing a swastika.

Ivan stopped for a long time as he looked out an measured what the class was thinking, "ever since the loss of the old cities, Vampires had been disconnected. Occasionally there was a single vampire that would lead a group of around forty or so for a few years until untimely death or disbandment. The last major leader, the _real_ Count Vlad Dragula, united the vampires of Transylvania and South Russia. Unfortunately, he was forced to run when the Holy Roman Empire extended itself to the area. While on the run he crossed paths with a famous wizard and seer at the time, Grigory Rasputin.

"This was before he formed his black magic cult, when he was but another Siberian medicine man. However, it was the height of his mystic abilities. I know most wizards doubt prophecies, but they do exist, it just a question of whether they are implemented."

"What was the Prophecy," asked Hermione, she gentle glanced Harry's way, the bespectacled teen discreetly stepped on her foot.

"The Prophecy is not secret, it is mostly feared by wizards though," said Ivan, "I will not bore you mystic mumbojumbo."

"Please, Mr. Ivan," asked Padma Patil.

He coughed to clear his throat, "_In the inception of the Great War... A child of both worlds... mother of Day Clan, father of Night Clan... Will find the powers of both and the weaknesses of neither... shall be the one to herald everlasting scions to the to Night Clan... And thus becoming the everlasting foe of Day Clan... A child shall become a Prince and a Villain._"

Harry looked at Hermione, she had a calculating look on her eyes as she went over the Prophecy in her head several times. Harry was about to say something as Dean got up, stuffing all of his work into his bag and leaving the class in a hurry. Harry looked at his watch, they still had a good five minutes till the end of class. Beamish looked alarmed slightly, Hermione looked to Harry, who just shrugged. Ivan tilted his head under the hood.

"Is it a full moon tonight?" joked Ivan.

"Now, I'm certain Mr. Thomas didn't mean anything by it," said Beamish, "he was just..."

"Algernon, it is quite alright," said Ivan, "I feel I have ruined their notions of vampires."

"Nonsense," returned Beamish, "I'm certain that they now think vampires to be more..."

"Human-like?" offered Ivan.

"I'm terribly sorry... I didn't mean too... I," stammered the professor before choosing silence as the best remedy.

"Sir, err... Mr. Ivan, what does the Prophecy mean?" asked Neville.

"Essentially, it refers to the coming of a man that will be born from either a muggle or Witch mother and a Vampire father," said Ivan, Hermione's hand shot up right away.

"I thought you said that vampires can't bare children?"

"It is true," said Ivan, "which makes it even more of an ominous Prophecy because not only will he be born of mixed copulation, he will also bear children as well. He and his children would both have the powers of both worlds, and none of the weaknesses. Half vampire and half human, he would create the ultimate lineage, a Royal Lineage. There is only one problem, the awakening of his dormant powers, which is believed to be drawn out of him by practice. Others say a potion, while a few believe in an artifact of Dragula's that was imbued with certain powers by Rasputin, as well as protected by him.

"But that is all hearsay on a Prophecy that was made some hundred and eleven years ago," finished Ivan as he swiped his the air revealing his pale white hand.

"Oh, I dare say," exclaimed Beamish, "kids, I do believe class is... um... over..."

"Algernon," said Ivan, "I know that you require the 'shock value' of appearance. why not? I'll show my face... as long as all your students agree to not say anything of my appearance to anyone."

"Class," said Beamish as he turned to them, "will say to anyone what Mr. Ivan looks like?"

The remaining class members shook their heads, "very well," said Ivan as he pulled back his thick black cloak hood to reveal the neatly cropped brown hair with making pale and gaunt familiar face to Harry. His eyes went wide as he realized that Ratai Rumianetsev Rudomet. Associate of Sun Gao and possible one night stand of Tonks, was clearly a vampire. Harry didn't know what to feel... from what Ivan, _Ratai_, told him, vampires weren't like what the public thought. But... Harry was still on edge and easily suspected anyone that was still new and unfamiliar with.

The second class had ended and all the other students had left, except for Hermione and Neville; both seemed concerned with Harry's behavior the second the vampire revealed himself. Beamish was talking to Ratai, as Harry approached them.

"Professor, would you mind terribly if I spoke with... _Ivan_," asked Harry as he keep his eye on the vampire.

"Certainly," said Beamish as he stood there, Harry didn't falter from staring at Ratai, Beamish seemed to catch on, "oh... Alone, you mean... well... I'm sure... Mr. Ivan, will it be all right if... Mr. Potter could..."

"Yes, Algernon," said Ratai, his thick Russian accent back, "please, leave us be."

Beamish nodded as he packed up quickly, hanging around the threshold of the doorway stumbling over his words while he left. Harry stood his ground while Neville and Hermione stood behind him. Ratai stood up.

"Chello Charry, Chermione, Neville," he said, "it chas been a vile."

"You're a vampire," said Harry.

"Yes, Charry, I am vampire," said Ratai, "but let me ask, vhat did you think before you knew?"

"Well...," Harry was gobsmacked.

"Harry," said Hermione, "who is this?"

Harry looked at her and Neville, both with blank stares, "His name is Ratai, remember the bloke at the bar with Tonks?"

"Oh," said Hermione.

"Guys, I hate to break it," said Neville, "but, does it matter?"

"It does," said Harry, "like why you didn't tell us."

Ratai looked sympathetically at them, "cause I knew you would act like this. I had hoped my lecture would have helped your understanding."

Harry had the tact to look ashamed at himself, "I... I'm sorry Ratai."

"It is alright, Charry," he said, "but if you'll excuse me, I have very pressing matters," donning his cloak to block all light from hitting his body, he walked out the door.

Harry sighed, realizing the ass he made himself out to be, "we should go," said Hermione.

"Yeah," he agreed half heartily, all three walking out of the classroom.

Ω∞†∞Ω

The time soon passed quickly and four weeks down the road, right before the winter hols. Harry and his friends were eating lunch in the Great Hall. Harry and Ron were rounding onto a second helping of roasted duck. It had been a strange four weeks, at best. Harry gotten over that Ratai was a vampire, but he kept a watch on him none the less. Harry didn't know the man, therefore he couldn't completely trust him.

Besides that, Midterms were upon all of the sixth years, the majority of which pulled late night study sessions in the common room or the library. And with Midterms comes winter break, of which Harry planed to stay at Hogwarts. Remus had advised him to stay for the hols in their last conversation yesterday before he prepared for tonight's full moon. The reasoning for safety didn't concern Harry, but it was the private tutoring that Dumbledore had promised that held him back. Just as dessert was about to be served, the old man stood up from the table.

"The sound of snow falling and and fire logs crackling have been favorites of mine for a long time," said the aged headmaster, "but there is another sound that seems absent from Hogwarts, especially on this eve of the winter hols. The sound of laughter, gift wrapping, gift unwrapping and true Christmas Joy. It has been long in coming, but for the first time, the necessary safety precautions were met. At the conclusion of lunch today, a Hogsmeade Trip will be available to all third years and above who wish to buy their Christmas presents, as well as for other forms of holiday merriment. Due enjoy, dessert is served."

The hall cheered and clapped as the desserts appeared on the table. It was the first Hogsmeade Trip of the school year, _and right too soon_, thought Harry as he reflected on feeling of being coped up in the castle for far too long. Finishing the dessert fast, he made plans with his friends for the day and rushed back to Gryffindor tower to get his money, or more precisely his Gringotts Card. As Harry ruffled around in his trunk looking for the card he heard a soft rustle of fabric. Turning around, he came eye to with Dean, who was getting out from behind the curtains of his bed.

"Umm..." said Harry, "hey..."

"Hey...," said Dean.

"You weren't at lunch?"

"Nah," said Dean, "not hungry."

"Dumbledore announced a Hogsmeade Trip," said Harry as he put his Gringotts card in his pocket, "first one in a long time."

"Yea," agreed Dean.

"You going to go," said Harry, "you know, buy some stuff for the hols and all."

"Nah," said Dean, "I don't think so, mate."

"We've been cooped up in here for a long time now," said Harry, "you know get a breathe of fresh air and all?"

"Harry, I know what you're trying to do," said Dean as he laid back onto his bed, "just leave it be."

Harry shrugged and went down stairs to join the others. They spent a long time in Hogsmeade, nearly an hour in Honeydukes alone. When Hermione and Harry had to physically drag Ron away from the jelly slugs and chocolate frogs, they knew that they needed to get something to eat. Even though they just had lunch, the freedom of the trip, being able to eat something that wasn't made by a Hogwarts house-elf, and sipping butterbeer was considered a godsend and gladly taken up. Harry, Ron, Hermione met up with several other D.A. members at the Three Broomsticks.

Sitting around the circular table besides the trio were Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Lisa Turpin, Luna and Neville. They had all arrived at the Three Broomsticks at the same time and felt it economical and friendly to join in some merrymaking together. Harry ordered about two rounds of butterbeer because of the generous mood he was in, several others did it as well. They had a few good rounds in them, enough to make them feel a little tipsy, but butterbeer being so low in alcohol, it took many rounds for any major affects. Harry checked his watch, _4:43 p.m._, read the watch, the full moon that was displayed on the face winked at him. He checked the windows, it was getting dark out.

"We should go back to the castle," he said to the table, "its getting dark out."

The table stopped talking either to check watches or the windows. They agreed whole heartily and pulled on their cloaks and shrunk their days purchases. They headed to the doors, the majority of the Hogwarts students had either headed back or were following the groups lead. The streets weren't as crowded as before. The small sliver of sunlight that remained illuminated the main street till it turned around the bend some ten kilometers from the pub.

Coming around the bend, the small sliver of light caught on their faces, were a group of seven men walking in a 'V' formation. All were wearing ragged brown full length overcoats. The leader, or big man that was at the point of the 'V', was wearing a very tight vest and dingy white shirt. He had long mangy grey hair with whiskers covering his face, he seemed to be snarling. Shoppers were running away from the group, into shops and back alleys, while a force of Aurors that were on guard gathered together in the middle of the road.

Harry and the group froze as the door to the Three Broomsticks closed behind them. They morbidly watched as a solitary Auror approached the group of men as the light dwindled more. Harry saw that words were exchanged between the the Auror and the men, causing the leader to laugh. Everyone that was left on the street were paying attention to the groups of men. The leader started to turn around, his face searching out into the crowd till he came to Harry's eyes. He sneered giving off a wink before he tore forward with his right hand.

Raising it upwards, the last glimmer of sunlight sparkled on his long yellowed nails, fast. Cutting up and through the neck of the Auror, which dangled and twitched from the end of the man's arm. Screams echoed through out the street, some coming from Harry's group, the most definitive being yelled out was from the Aurors: Get back, Greyback! Harry swiveled his head looking for any means of cover, the most promising was the inclosure of watering troughs for horses. He gathered some of the group there, Padma, Parvati, Lisa and Michael.

"Hermione, enlarge the troughs high," said Harry, "use it as cover... wait... do any of you have sickles?"

Parvati and Padma nodded and handed over fifteen silver sickles. Harry melted them in to little balls and kept hold of them in his hands, "Hermione, enlarge the toughs to encase you, just do it," he finished as he rushed off to the rest of the group that seemed to be heading over to help the Aurors. _Bugger, _thought Harry, _they'll get eaten alive_.

"Stay back," warned an Auror, "go back to Hogwarts, while there is still time."

Greyback and his crew mostly evaded the spells waiting for the night to come and the full moon to transform them. Lying on the street were two bodies, one was the Auror that was skewered by Greyback, the other was one of Greyback's crew a silver arrow sticking through his head. One of the Aurors was fighting dirty, they would all need to to win. Harry caught up with Ron, Ernie, Susan, Anthony, Luna and Neville and started ripping into them.

"Bloody hell, these are werewolves," said Harry, "don't do this."

The last bit of light started to disappear, Greyback looked at his pack and let out a howl, "t—t—too late," stammered Ernie.

"Quick, we need silver," said Harry as he moved them behind several barrels for some cover, "use sickles. Ron."

The red head turned his way to Harry, as Harry passed him several of the silver balls he created, "use the projectile spell, _geschoss_, and a simple jab. Regular spells will not work in there other form."

As the rest of them started to change there sickles into projectile balls, Harry peeked over the barrels. Greyback, in his transformed self, was a giant grey wolf that had tightly coiled muscles and scars that could be seen through his thick fur. His pack, were mostly brown furred with the same tight muscular coils of sinew, though there were two that were a dark shade of black. The only light on the street came from the street lamps and spells the Aurors were firing. Two of the brown wolves jumped the cover of three Aurors, their jaws splitting through the stomach of one Auror spilling his intestines to the ground. The other werewolf bit another Auror on the calf, pressing a paw to his chest, and successfully rendering the limb before moving to another. Greyback joined the group and finished the last Auror in that position by tearing out his throat.

The other Aurors were in a bad shape, only taking down one other werewolf before losing another six men. They fell back to Harry's position, when they noticed that the kids were there. One of the Aurors turned to them.

"What the bloody hell are you lot doing herrrrr...," he was cut off quickly as one of the black werewolves jumped on him and tore into his chest.

Harry, Ron and Anthony shot a silver round each into the flank of the beast. It snarled in rage turning to them. Luna shot off a round into the creatures left eye causing it to explode. There was a pause before the legs of the creature gave way, falling to the ground dead.

"Move back," said Harry as he moved the group back, "get to the alley for cover."

The wolves were rushing forward, Greyback leading the way tearing through Aurors. Wounding them for the others to finishes. Harry pushed his friends in to a side alley that was walled in the back. A dead end, _oh that's ominous_, thought Harry. As they ran down the alley, finding cover behind boxes and barrels, Harry noticed one missing. Looking to the opening of the alley, Harry saw Ernie firing his silver projectiles at brown werewolf eating the innards of a still breathing Auror. His aim was bad though and only accomplished in revealing his location. Harry ran as fast as he could, but a werewolf is always faster than a human.

Ernie let out a scream as the werewolf sunk it's teeth into his forearm. Ernie fell backwards, the wolf on top of him as it's jaw clamped down harder causing blood to flow greatly into the beast's mouth and on Ernie's pale face. The wolf let go of the forearm and looked up as Harry finally made it to the Hufflepuff's side. Harry pulled out three silver balls firing them into the wolf as it began to pounce.

Jumping into the air to attack Harry, the werewolf jumped directly into the path of the silver projectiles. The first hit it's nose, the second into it's ear and the final shot hit under the right eye causing it to pop out. Harry turned to the side as it died mid-air and hit the ground hard tumbling off to the side covered in snow.

Harry lifted Ernie to his feet, the Hufflepuff boy held his bitten arm close to his chest. Harry ripped a piece of cloth from his cloak and wrapped Ernie's arm with it.

"Keep pressure on it," said Harry, "head to the back of the alley and get some help from the others, I'm sure Anthony can dress it."

Ernie turned and ran to the back of the alley holding his arm tightly. There was a scream from the main street as one of the Aurors ran down the street. A black werewolf tackled the man in a summersault and bit in the back of the neck and wrenching hard. It guzzled down the flesh of the Auror, whose head rolled forward, no longer connected to it's body. The werewolf lifted it's head and took a sniff, it's eyes spotted it's dead partner, then his gaze struck Harry.

It started to saunter towards Harry as he raised his wand and some of the silver balls. He was about to fire when the werewolf pounced and tackled Harry making him drop his wand and silver ammunition to the ground. The wolf seemed to encase Harry with it's massive size. It's black fur blocking the street lights from Harry's view. The only view Harry had was staring up at the beady black eyes of the werewolf that had tackled him, the sharp gnawing teeth spraying saliva into Harry's raven hair. The green eyed teen forced all of his might into holding the bottom jaw up and away from his face so as to not allow the werewolf to open it's mouth and bite him. The eyes of the beast stared stared down into Harry's.

"Good evening to you too," snarled Harry as he forced forward harder.

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed this new Chapter, I need to through some action back into the story. I also hope that some of the plot line is explained more with in this. For those that are concerned, the tutoring by Dumbledore will be similar to that from the actual 6th book, but I stress, the outcome of book six will not be in this fic. 

Harry is starting to reveal some secrets that he probably shouldn't.

Ratai really is a vampire and has been the whole time.

Ernie was bitten by a werewolf... dun dun dun...

Rasputin should not be a random plot line that is thrown in, Remus has mentioned him before, but the connection he has with Dragula A.K.A. Dracula is interesting...

HP-Lexicon Facts:

Ron's Patronus is a Jack Russell terrier

Eldred Worple did right _Blood Brothers_

I would like to thank **Draghknar**, **Wippinboy2003**, **Tmctflyboy**, **HarryReader**, **BlackStar**, **Sirius009**, **Phoenixdor Dragonclaw** and **The Lady Reaper of the Shadow** for reading and review. You guys are awesome. Sirius009, Olivia Perks is the older daughter of the construction foreman and sister of Sally-Anne Perks, former classmate of Harry's. They became friends during the summer hols. And oh yes, there will be many benefits, many many benefits. Though not all from Olivia.

I'd also like to thank **Waytoobored** for putting my story on his/hers C2.

Sgt. Forfie, over and out.


	19. Comrades In Arms

Disclaimer: Anything that you have seen in the books, movies, interviews or the HP-Lexicon is the work of J.K. Rowling. Anything you haven't is most likely mine.

* * *

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
By Forfie 

Chapter 19.) Comrades in Arms

Harry looked deeply into the beasts black eyes, the drool slid down his forehead and started to enter his right eye. He pushed forward with all of his strength, holding the werewolf's lower jaw up so that it could not lower and open it's mouth to take a chunk from him. The pressure from the beasts paws increased on his chest, the nails tearing into his skin, all it needed was one drop of saliva to change his life for ever.

His one opened eye saw two pale hands wrap around the werewolf jaw he was holding and in an instant all of the drool and pressure were released from his body. Intake deep breaths as he rose to his feet with out the help of his hands, Harry searched and scrambled around the snow for his wand. He found it's depression some three feet away from his body and quickly dove for it.

He then turned over and in the location where the werewolf was to be to see it engaged in combat with a man. Harry squinted his eyes and saw the pale gaunt face of Ratai fighting against the hulking beast. The Russian Vampire was crouched, his legs spread wide apart as he moved forward on his hands with his back completely prone. Harry understood sambo, as a fighting style, but still found it rather impractical.

That was until the werewolf pounced for Ratai's back, whom quickly flipped him over and then grappled the muzzle of and wrapped his legs around the beast's torso squeezing tightly with his thighs. The wolf whined as it fought against the vampiric strength and twisted around violent to dislodge the Russian. Ratai was flung back but landed on his feet in the same sambo position as before, hissing at the werewolf in some language.

There was a long drawn out howl that radiated through out all of Hogsmeade that perked the ears of the werewolf. He looked one last time at Ratai, before running out of the alley to the main street and running away with what remained of the attack pack. _Most likely Greyback survived_, thought Harry as he and Ratai made their way to each other.

"Are chou bee-tteen?" asked the Russian desperately.

"No," replied Harry as he touched the gashes on his shoulders, _Please, no more scars_, "Ernie got bitten bad though…"

"Take me to chim," said Ratai, "quickly, Charry."

Harry and Ratai ran down the alley way to find Ron, Luna and Susan Bones standing around as Anthony still worked furiously on Ernie's arm. He had packed snow against it to cool it and help coagulate the blood floor. He was still casting healing charms as Ratai ran next to him and crouched down over Ernie.

"Chave you swallowed any of chis blood?" asked the Vampire urgently.

"No," replied Anthony, "will he be…be…a …?"

"Verevolf? Yes, but I do not vish for any other's to be turned tonight," replied Ratai, "I need to get chim to Chogwarts."

"No," said Ron, "they'll turn him."

"It's the legal thing to do," said Susan, "the registry is important…"

"It has been nothing but trouble for Lupin," said Harry coldly, "Ratai, what can be done?"

"I could take chim to Sun Gao," said the Vampire, "che is very skeelled vith medicine."

"I stand against this," said Susan, "Ernie's best chance for care will be at St. Mungo's."

"He won't be able to finish Hogwarts," said Ron, "Susan, he is our friend. _Our_ friend and this will be in his best interest."

"I need to know now," said Ratai, "che is not fairing to vell."

The group all looked at Susan, whom looked into the eyes of everyone before resting on Ernie's unconscious and bleeding body before nodding. Ratai took out a necklace and wrapped it around Ernie's neck before taping it with his wand. The both quickly disappeared back into the castle.

Harry looked at the group, his hands hung limply at his side. _Had they made the right choice?_ He thought to himself, _if Ernie was found out…even later on…he could be exterminated…and this would have been that act that killed him_. Harry shook his head as Ron placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Mate, the Aurors are coming," said the red head.

"Good," replied Harry, "I need a break."

Ω∞†∞Ω

"Mr. Potter, what aren't you telling us?" asked a surly Auror that was sitting behind a table in the Three Broomsticks with a stern of butterbeer in front of both of them. Harry took a sip, wetting his lips.

"What more is there to tell?" asked Harry as he looked at the new…person…they had collected from the street being brought in; a white sheet covering up to his chest with a pool of blood around his abdomen as they waited for the floo to St. Mungo's.

"From the reports of you and your class mates, six school children fought and won against three werewolves," said the Auror, "we have two bodies, the third having gotten away. How could six kids dispatch three adult werewolves trained by Fenrir Greyback personally with out anyone getting bit or kilt, unless you had help."

"No, no help really," replied Harry, "well, not from Aurors, that's for certain."

The Auror, some recently promoted sergeant by the surname of Ricco, leaned back in his chair and stroked his five o'clock shadow. "We lost a lot of good men tonight, Potter. Some thirteen Aurors dead. Another seven turned. Hell, we don't even know how many civilians yet. They're still pulling bodies from Dervish and Bangers."

"No…no Hogwarts kids, right?" asked Harry.

"You were the only Hogwarts kids left," replied Ricco, "and that's what I'm trying to find out. But either nothing happened, or I'm being stonewalled. I tend to think I'm stonewalled but I have nothing to hold against you 'cept a gut feeling. Your headmaster is on the way to collect you all. Please, here is a detailed account of your testimonies. Maybe he'll see something I won't?"

Harry sighed and joined the rest of his friends outside. Hermione and the others were picked up early in the fight, when the first reinforcement of Aurors came. So it was just Harry, Ron, Neville, Susan, Anthony and Luna waiting to be picked up. Harry looked at his worn out fellows, just as the threstral pulled carriage came up. The door opened to reveal Dumbledore.

"Please, get in," said Dumbledore, "do not tarry any longer."

The group got in to the cart, all with an ashen look on their face. Harry sat next to Dumbledore; the old man did not look at him, but at everyone else in the carriage. Harry handed the reports wordlessly to Dumbledore, who received them and pocketed them quickly in the vastness of his robes. As the cart wound its way to the castle, Dumbledore spoke for the first time that evening, in a calm collect voice.

"I am sorry for all of what you had to go through," he turned to look into each of their eyes except Harry's, "and I am glad _all_ of you are safe. I would like you to visit the hospital wing right away and classes are cancelled for all of you for the rest of the week. Consider it an early Christmas present."

Most of the kids mumbled a barely comprehensible, "thanks" before returning to silence. And so continued the ride past the gates up the path to the oaken doors. One by one the students got out of the carriage, save Harry. He looked at the headmaster.

"Yes, Harry, I would like to see you in my office, but after you get your wounds addressed."

"They can wait," replied Harry as he brushed off his shoulders.

"So be it," replied Dumbledore as a whirl of fire came into being and Harry felt a warm sensation the quickly left. Around the circular room were trinkets and portraits. Dumbledore stood behind his oaken desk and removed his cap, "it has been a long semester."

"It has been a long life," replied Harry earnestly.

"Ah, but one never does wish for a short one," replied Dumbledore, "Harry, I wish you to be truthful with me about today."

"I have been truthful always," replied Harry, Dumbledore looked deeply into Harry's eyes, which looked to the side quickly, "you know I don't like that."

"Did anyone get bitten tonight?" asked Dumbledore, "it is dire that I know for certain."

"Please, tell me what you know, Dumbledore," asked Harry, "or else I will not tell the truth to you."

Dumbledore sighed, "I received word from Sun Gao that a student was bitten and under his care. He did not release a name, but I do trust his care and medicinal background enough."

"Then that' should be all," replied Harry, "we do not wish to name the student for fear of ministry restriction."

"And if it means his death?" said Dumbledore, "are you willing to accept you had a role in that?"

"Yes," replied Harry, "it is better to have lived and died free then to be scorned by the world for a long period of time."

"As noble as it may sound, Harry," said Dumbledore, "things may change…"

"for the worst," finished Harry.

"I have never known you to be a pessimist," replied Dumbledore as he twirled his beard.

"Has the wizarding world ever been favorable to werewolves," asked Harry.

"Only when there were no regulation. But then there were pogroms of mass killings of werewolves. The law is designed to protect both wizards from werewolves, but mostly werewolves from humans."

"Enough," said Harry, "what is done, is done. He, _We_ can not go back."

"If that is how you see it," replied Dumbledore, "but I shall show no amnesty to such a person within my walls."

"We shall handle it," said Harry, "we students always handle it."

"I fear that as well," replied Dumbledore.

"Don't, we are only against Voldemort," replied Harry.

"Absolute power corrupts, absolutely," replied Dumbledore.

"And we all admit our faults," rejoined Harry, "is there anything else sir, I wish to get my wounds attended."

"Meet me tomorrow for your first tutoring session," said Dumbledore, "at 3 o'clock, if you will."

"Certainly," replied Harry curtly as he got up from the chair and left swiftly for the hospital wing.

Ω∞†∞Ω

After getting patched up by Madame Pomfrey Harry head over to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, or dojo, or training center, depending on what the students were calling it now. Harry didn't really notice because he kept his mind more focused on his work. To say there were fewer distractions this year would not be truthful; it had been very eventful so far and it was just getting into the winter hols. Whatever the reason maybe, Harry focused on his work to steady himself, just like a breathing exercise before a work out.

Opening the door, Harry threw off his cloak and removed his shirt as fast as possible. On his shoulders were some white lines that were the remains of the werewolf attack. The good news was that it should fade shortly. On his left bicep was a new name burnt in, and on his right, one equally new name was burnt in. Investigating into what separated the names, Harry found that the names etched on the right side were those that he directly killed, and the left side were those that he helped lead to death or caused some kind of complication that lead to death.

Though death was the last thing in his mind as Harry started in the basic four winds kata with a Kuan Mu stepping pattern to cleanse his body and clear his mind. He punched midlevel in the air exhaling hard before breathing and retracting his fists and punching out at head level with a great exhale. Retracting slowly in a chambered position, his fists held tightly against the last bones of his rib cage, Harry slid his right foot forward in a crescent step.

Solidifying his forward front stance, Harry pushed forward with his open palms parallel to each other. Breathing out, Harry moved his abdominal muscles working them out with his breathing as Sun Gao had guided. _To control the core_, thought Harry as Sun Gao how taught him, _is to control oneself. _Harry's weight shifted as he felt a quick strike of pressure against his side. He moved through it and continued his kata.

"Good," said Sun Gao as Harry turned to the right and the wizened man kicked him on the opposite hip, "control and discipline are as much a part of martial arts as are the moves to the katas."

Harry did not talk but continued the kata as he was kicked on his bare skin by Sun Gao. He turned to the left and then the right, following through the kata as Sun Gao took kicks at him, trying to break his control. Harry finished and retracted to having his feet parallel at shoulder length apart with his fist firmly held above his thighs. He turned to look Sun Gao in the eyes, sweat dripping down his toned body, his wet hair plastered to his forehead.

"How is Ernie?" asked Harry as he swept his hair up running his fingers through it, breathing calmly.

"I have done all I can for Huan," replied Sun Gao, "but this month shall be tough for him. Dumbledore has expressed that he wishes to not know the individual, and will not hold any special amenities for him. I do not know how to break it to Huan that he will not be able to stay much longer."

"No," said Harry quickly, "he can stay; there is a place that was belt for a werewolf. A friend of mine will not be beaten by this. There is a passageway, from the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. You just need to press the knot on the trunk of the tree…"

"I shall look into this, Chwen," said Sun Gao as he lowered himself cross legged to the ground, "you are a true friend of Huan. He is recuperating in my chambers, he should not move for sometime. I fear his absence from class will be noticeable."

"Not so," said Harry, "Dumbledore granted all the others that were there a week off from classes. The kids will assume he was with us."

"But then the professors will know he was as well," said Sun Gao. "We shall treat it, when it comes to pass."

"Sir, who is Ratai," asked Harry after a moment of silence.

"He is a friend of mine that you have seen in my company a lot," said Sun Gao, "from what I heard, he saved your life today. Though that is common from a comrade in arms."

"Comrade in arms?" questioned Harry.

"The Shyr Long Clan consists of more members then you may think, Chwen," said Sun Gao, "in fact the Clan has been in existence for some time now. Like that of the Knights of Walpurgis, the Shyr Long Clan have existed and changed for some hundred years. And like the Knights of Walpurgis, we are not as we were originally made. Currently your class, Ratai, Remus, an aid named Poliakoff and myself make up the remainder of this clan. That's who Ratai is, your comrade."

"Remus?"

"Lang Ren has been with the Shyr Long Clan for some time now," said the professor, "he joined our ranks in 1982, distraught still after the loss of your parents. He spent twelve years running missions for us in Russia and China before retiring honourablely to teach here. He recently rejoined the Clan."

"So that is how he knew you?" asked Harry, "I'm sorry all of this making my head spin."

"Do not worry too much Chwen, you are on vacation now," said Sun Gao, "relax a bit, the fun stuff does not start till next semester. There is more training, especially outdoors to prepare for your final."

"Final?" said Harry, "oh, right the week survival trip in Russia, nearly forgot that."

"I think many of the group has," replied Sun Gao, "in fact, I just got permission from Dumbledore for the outdoor excursion."

"Right lot Dumbledore did today with the protections," mumbled Harry.

"It was not his fault," replied Sun Gao, "that some of his most trusted staff are not aligned in the same ideals that he is."

"Snape," said Harry.

Sun Gao did not give a definitive answer and remained still with a still expression before saying, "perhaps it is time for bed?"

"May I see how Ernie…Huan is?"

"No, not tonight Chwen," said Sun Gao, "maybe in a week, when he has more strength. Ratai is right, you are a true comrade. Perhaps I will get to see this first hand some day?"

"Perhaps, Sir," replied Harry as he collected his items and left the room.

Ω∞†∞Ω

It was the next day as Harry walked into Dumbledore's office. He had a long lunch in the Great Hall with his friends, telling Ron and Hermione about the Shyr Long Clan and what Sun Gao had told him the previous night. Ernie was not at the meal because he was still being treated by Sun Gao and resting from being bitten. It would be a long time till Ernie will be functioning like before, well similar to before. He would never be the same and Harry felt that is was in someway his fault, whether because he couldn't save him or he felt responsible as Ernie was there. It was the wrong time and wrong place for Ernie.

But for Harry, it was the right time and place, it being Dumbledore's office at 3 o'clock. He knocked on the door and was beckoned in by the old man. Harry walked forward nonchalantly and laid back in a chair, dropping the bag of quills and parchment next to the chair. Dumbledore rose from his chair to his cabinet. With his back towards Harry, Dumbledore began to talk.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said the old man as he rifled around the cabinet, Harry grunted back to him, "I hope you had a good evening's sleep, I know mine was less restful then I would have liked it to be."

"Dumbledore, you don't really care how I slept. So please, dispense with the niceties, they are unwanted and unneeded words," said Harry calmly.

"I take it you are still upset with me," said Dumbledore as he placed the stone basin that was his pensive on his desk, "I hope it will not interfere with your session today."

"I'll try to contain myself," replied Harry with noticeable disdain, "though what will your pensive have to do with my lessons?"

"Ahh, always the curious and observant one, Harry," said the old man as he rummaged around his desk draws to pull out a corked vial, "I believe I have a way to help you with the prophecy. I will like to explain it to you better, but I myself can not fully explain it. I shall call upon the help of others, but it is my goal to show you what I believe to be Voldemort's true weakness. The first evidence I would like to present to you is this," the old man held up the burned out remains of Voldemort's diary from Harry's second year.

"What does the diary have to do with it," asked Harry.

"Everything my dear boy, everything," said Dumbledore as he placed the book back down on the table. "As you know from your experience in your second year, Voldemort was able to retain power through this diary by feeding off of the life Ms. Weasley. Do you know how Voldemort created the diary?"

"I thought it to be some dark charm," replied Harry, "or a combination of such."

"Close," replied Dumbledore, twisting his beard with his finger lightly, "tell me, Harry, do you know what a Horcrux is?"

"Horo what?"

"Harry, a Horcrux is the closest thing to immortality that a dark wizard would try, besides stealing the Philosopher's Stone. A horcrux is when a wizard places a piece of his soul into an object, there by making the death of his whole soul harder. To kill someone is to destroy their body and soul. That is why Voldemort's body died when his own Killing Curse was reflected back on him, but not his essence. But to take a life, in anyway, divides a person's soul. So it is only someone who has killed that can make a horcrux."

"So I could make a few," mumbled Harry, "but my soul does not feel separated…"

"I believe that has to do with one of your many tattoos," replied Dumbledore, "like the ringlet of names of those you have killed around your biceps reminds me of an old oath a friend and colleague of mine was telling me about some hundred years ago. I did not know there were any documented texts on the Oath of the True Knight of Cercy still remaining."

"How did you know," asked Harry.

"Well, I would have been surprised if you hadn't," said the old man, "considering how easy you handle the aftermath of what you dealt to Death Eaters. Has anyone explained the ritual to you?"

"In my broken French, at the time, I understood that the ritual would assuage the pain of killing…and I couldn't sleep all that well…it was after the Diagon Alley attack."

"That does make sense," replied Dumbledore, "but the tattoos are like…a chain link binding. They're intent is to hold ones soul together and to protect that person. It is like an insect's exoskeleton, it hold the creature together, as well as protect it. Though many of the French knights at the battle of Cercy were unable to live long enough to see the full effects of the ritual. Though it was well documented by the creator and soon fell into the arcane and esoteric. You are perhaps the only person that has done this particular ritual since the 1400's.

"That explains why you can not make a horcrux," continued Dumbledore, "Voldemort on the other hand would have been fully able to have made a horocruex, like the diary. However, Tom was an exceptional student and I would not put anything past him, especially breaking myths. Before he came out fully as Voldemort, there had only been documented cases in which powerful wizards made one or two horcruxes."

"How many did Voldemort make," asked Harry.

"That is what we need to ascertain," said Dumbledore, "I do believe I know the location of another of Tom's horcruxes. I would like to show you." Dumbledore waved to his pensive, "this is not my memory, for I never had the chance to meet Tom's mother or his mother's family. In fact, they rarely made contact with anyone. This is one occasion that the Ministry had to check them because there were rumors that the abuse of muggles and possible infraction on the Secrecy Act were occurring.

"Bob Ogden worked for the MLE at the time and was sent to investigate. When I asked him for his memory of this occurrence, he readily gave it to me. Unfortunately, he died some three years later. Dragon Pox at the time for his age was normally terminal," said Dumbledore as he uncorked the vial and gently _poured_ the memory into the pensive. "If you will join me Harry, you are fairly familiar with the use of a pensive by now, I do think."

Harry got up from his chair and stood next to Dumbledore. A small window opened in the basin to show a short, squat, gray haired man with thick, bottle lens glasses stiffly walking on a muddied dirt road wearing a brown overcoat and a white Bahamian straw hat. A rather odd combination, but compared to Mr. Weasley, Ogden seemed to be rather more subtle. Harry and Dumbledore leaned forward, pressing their noses to the liquid before getting sucked into the memory.

Landing with a hard thud that brought him to his knees, Harry quickly recovered and looked at Dumbledore, whom landed easily on his feet. They followed quietly behind Ogden as he blustered down the muddy path. It was dark out, but Harry could not tell if it was early morning or lat night. The air was chilled with a light mist hanging around their feet.

"Where are we, sir," asked Harry, not being able to determine his location by his surroundings.

"The main road that connects Greater Hanglington and Little Hanglington," said the Old Man as they stopped while Bob Ogden cleaned his thick lens glasses. "Magical Law Enforcer, First Rank, Ogden was sent to the area to investigate on muggle abuse claims against that only wizarding family in the area, the Gaunts."

They continued walking behind Ogden as he stopped on last time. He looked both ways before he stepped in between two birch trees and the undergrowth. Harry and Dumbledore then followed him on to the path that led to a large flat inlet some twenty feet off the road. On the edge of the inlet stood a shoddily put together granite stone house that had a sinking thatched roof that as greened with mold and moss from extensive water damage. Harry was taken aback by the house, wondering how Voldemort could be connected with such a dilapidated building. On the right hand side was an axe sticking out of an old oak tree stump, O.T.I.S. was written near the head, and a pile of recently chopped wood was stacked behind it.

There was a rustle from the tree line on the left hand side of the house, Ogden shifted to the right to hide some what next to the wood pile. From the woods came a man whose face was obscured by his wild, unkempt hair that seemed to know no shampoo or comb. His clothes were dirty and seemed to fall flimsily from his stout and wide body. His sausage like fingers were wrapped around a short piece of wood, the other hand was holding the tail of a snake that tried to run away from its capturer.

The man then began to hiss at the snake, Dumbledore looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow. Harry picked up the man's words: _Hissy hissy little prissy snake of mine. Whose Morfin's new friend? Sir snakey, that's you! But if you bite Morfin, it's a nail to the wall for you! Little Sir prissy snakey, what do you say?_

The man then lifted the snake quickly up to his face, jerking it from the ground. It promptly bit Morfin on the cheek. The man howled and through the snake up in the air, pointed his wand a whispered a spell that shot a giant metal spike through the snake, pinning it to the door of the house as it twitched around. The hissing from the snake was all screams as it withered in agony disturbed Harry slightly, and the man wiped the blood from the bite from his face, brushing his hair aside to show a round monkish face with eyes that never pointed in the same direction and an overly distinct under bite.

The door was thrown open, flattening the dieing snake as another man stood in the doorway. He was shorter then Morfin, his head was as round as a ball, with a monkey like quality as well. The similarity between the two was most likely from being relations thought Harry. The new man looked at the puddle of blood seeping through the thin wood of the door.

"Leave it be," growled out the man, "your sister will clean it up later. Come inside, the wards detected a visitor." He then raised his voice a bit louder, "if he should wish to stop hiding behind the wood pile, he would find the house more accommodating."

Harry looked over at Ogden as he stood upright and straightened his overcoat before approaching the door. He knocked twice and the door with the snake still attached swung forward to so a small dingy room that had a connecting kitchen that was equally small and cockroach ridden. Above the table that stood on the far end of the room was the family's coat of arms, a flourishing ribbon that proclaimed three words: Purity, Pride and Power in Latin above a snake eating its own tail twisted in a figure eight. A representation of continuity, personal strength, and never ending endurance; all of which was emblazoned on kite shield. Harry looked closer to see that the snake's eyes were actually opal stones that pointed eastward, to the way of life.

"Wicked," breathed Harry as he stepped forward.

"Many thought so of the Gaunt family," replied Dumbledore, "though we all have some black sheep in our families."

"Huh," said Harry as he looked at Dumbledore, the old man tapped his nose and then pointed to the table that had Morfin and the other man sitting around. There was a girl bent over scouring the dirty uneven brick floored kitchen.

"Please, sit," said the old man, Ogden sat down in the open chair, his back facing the door.

"Mr. Gaunt, I'm here today as a representative of the Ministry for Magic," said Ogden.

"It is rude not to introduce oneself in an ancestral home," said the man, "as I am Marvolo Gaunt, my son Morfin sits beside me, and my squib of a daughter washes the kitchen floor."

"It is concerning your son, Mr…" tried to say Ogden.

"And yet you still have failed introduced yourself," said Marvolo Gaunt, "such insolence can only come from one not of pure blood."

"I can assure you, Mr. Gaunt, the Ogden blood that runs through my veins is honorable indeed," Bob adjusted his bottle thick glasses, "my name is Robert Trajain Ogden, Ministry for Magic Law Enforcer, and I am here to ascertain whether your son, Morfin has committed acts of muggle abuse and anti-secrecy."

"How dare the Ministry libel my bloodline, the bloodline of Salazar Slytherine with such frivolous charges," seethed Mr. Gaunt, "the Ogden's do not carry such a lineage, no family around does. You see that coat of arms, few families are left that bare anything similar to it. Only those that are left from the Knights of Walpurgis after the Great Purge. Pure blood deserves respect, especially from the government that was formed by it. And if you think the Ministry will sway me, then the power my family ring will bare nothing of my heritage."

Mr. Gaunt stood up and pressed the opal stone on a gold band as close to Bob's eye as possible, Ogden fell backwards from the chair onto the dirty floor. "When I allow my family to be subjugated to claims of law to protect the filth of the world, it is a day that I renounce my family."

"Your son was positively identified by several witnesses at the scene before he expelled one Thomas Riddle some thirty five feet," said Ogden as he backed up.

"And you trust the words of muggles," barked Marvolo.

"He deserved it," said Morfin to his father in parseltongue, "he touched Merope."

"Shut up," hissed back Marvolo, "do not use the language in front of a blood traitor."

"Errr…" said Bob in confusion.

Marvolo went over to the girl on the floor and picked her up by the hair, "that vermin touched my daughter and my son up held the family honour. Something the Ogden's know nothing about. You see this locket? It twas a gift from Slytherine to his wife. And all the girls of his descent have worn it with pride, even the squib of a daughter of mine. This muggle would have befouled my daughter if it weren't for my son."

"A crime has been committed, Mr. Gaunt," said Ogden firmly, "there shall be consequences."

"Expect resistance," said Marvolo vehemently.

"Is that a threat against the ministry," said Ogden as he backed to the door.

"It is to any trespassers on my private land," replied Marvolo, "I suggest you leave, Mr. Ogden, your stay has been over welcomed."

"Ministry representatives will come soon, be sure of that," said Ogden as he left with his cloak flourishing behind him.

The memory started to fade into hazy blues and greens. Harry looked over towards Dumbledore, his green eyes full of questions. Dumbledore looked at his pupil and began to explain. The beginnings of another memory started, it was a quiet night and the dilapidated home of the Gaunts was in the background. The inky black night engulfed all the details from the surroundings except the outlines that orange glow from one of the windows.

"The Gaunt family were the last descendents of Slytherine," said Dumbledore, "their family line in the last three hundred years were marked with decadence. Arguments about the family fortune and the want to keep the family pureblood lead to the loss of most monetary positions and incestuous marriages that brought forth offspring. By the 1920's all Marvolo had to his name were two children he birthed from his first cousin, the ancestral home for the last 500 years, the coat of arms, the family ring and Slytherine's locket.

"They lived off the outskirts of a small town called Little Hangleton. The most prominent family among the people were the Riddle's, who made their money from a small stock option in DeBeers and several tailor shops in the northern region. Their son, Thomas Riddle, was the father of Voldemort; he was also the muggle that Morfin Gaunt hexed for touching Merope."

"How did Merope and Riddle get together?" Asked Harry, "I mean…she wasn't that good looking and Marvolo called her a squib and didn't seem to treat her well."

"I believe most questions shall be explained now," said Dumbledore as a dark cloaked figure walked by them, "the day after Robert Ogden's visit, ministry personnel went in to apprehend Morfin, during the fight Marvolo and Morfin killed some three Magical Law Enforcers. Marvolo pled guilty to all three murders and was sentenced to life in Azkaban, he died in his third year. Morfin was charged with muggle abuse, infractions on the code of secrecy and assaulting ministry officials; he was found guilty and sentenced to seventeen years in Azkaban. He served all seventeen."

There was a knock at the door, Harry wondered who the man under the cloak was. A long pause awaited the knock, the light flickering in the house showed the indication of a man moving slowly. The door creaked open to reveal an older looking Morfin Gaunt, his hair flickered with gray, the lines deep on his face. His eyes were glazed over and droopy, a bottle of some amber liquor was in his clenched in his right fist which now had the Gaunt family ring on his thick ring finger. He looked at the dark cloaked figure and took a big gulp.

"Whadja want," slurred Morfin.

"Are you Marvolo Gaunt," asked a familiar voice to Harry from under the dark cloak.

"He'sa been dead fo' fourteen years," replied Morfin, "I's his son, Morfin."

"Then it is you I wish to speak with," said the figure.

"Ands who may yous be?"

"Son of Merope Gaunt," replied the figure as he removed his hood to reveal the face of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, "last descendent of Slytherine."

Morfin swayed a bit and then laughed a low belly laugh that shook his ribs and forced him to spill his liquor onto the floor. He turned around and then walked back into the dingy house. Riddle followed inward, as did Harry and Dumbledore, the only change to the Gaunt house besides the absence of Marvolo and Merope was the excess dust that seemed to be caked on all the items. Morfin was sitting at the table, his feet on the top, as he leaned back and drank from the bottle, panting slightly from his long bout of laughing.

"What is funny, you perverse drunk?" said the young Voldemort with disgust on his face.

"Yous looks sos much likes him," slurred out Morfin as he took another sip.

"Like who..." questions Riddle.

"Ye father," said the last Gaunt, "muggle name o' Thomas Riddle."

"My name is Thomas Riddle," replied the angry teen, "I'm…named after a muggle."

"Aye, thee whole family lives up ons the hill looking over town," replied Morfin, "he left Merope…yours mum…before your birth. Dunnos why she stopped givening hims the love potion…shes was always good with potions. Squib of the family she was though."

"Lies," seethed a young Voldemort, "lies…my mother and father were pureblood. _I_ am pureblood!"

Morfin stood up wobbly from his chair and swung at Riddle with his open back right hand. The ring his Voldemort's cheek cutting it and spiraling him to the floor. He whipped out his wand on his uncle, pointing it his heart.

"I am a pureblood," he stated, "and you are a drunk".

"Ifs yous are purebloods, then whys you a bastard son of a muggle," said Morfin, "you are not of the Gaunts lines. Yous are illegitimate!"

"I'm more pureblood then you incestuous offspring," yelled back Voldemort, "_accio ring_."

The Gaunt Family ring flew out of Morfin's hand into Riddle's out stretched palm. He slipped it onto his right hand's ring finger, his wand still pointed at Morfin. The last Gaunt looked in disdain at the boy. He took a long swig from the glass bottle, whipping his mouth with the back of his free hand.

"Whats happened to your mother's locket, then," he asked.

"What locket?" asked a confused Riddle.

"Slytherine's locket…my father gave its to yours mum," said Morfin, "she prolly pawned its fors money. Blood traitor."

"Why would she have Slytherine's locket?"

"Foolish boy," whispered Morfin, "the Gaunts are the last descendents of the famous Salazar Slytherine. And with my death, so too does his line die."

"You will not die today," said Riddle, "and Slytherine shall live through me."

Morfin began to laugh before there are a flash of red light and everything went black. Harry looked at Dumbledore, trying to put the memory together in his head. Dumbledore lightly held onto Harry's elbow as they zoomed out of the pensive back into the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore sat down gingerly into his guest chairs, Harry remained standing.

"That was during Tom's 6th year, around Christmas time as well. The next day, the maid found the Riddle family all killed, the autopsies revealed nothing out of the ordinary, therefore it was by the Killing Curse. Morfin, being the only wizard in the area, was blamed for the murders and sentenced to a life term in Azkaban. I visited Morfin several times because I had my suspicions of the actual events," said the old man.

"Why did you have your suspicions?" asked Harry.

"Because it was I who told Tom where the last of his family remained, and I also noticed when he returned from the Christmas Holiday with the Gaunt family ring."

"And you said nothing?" asked Harry.

"I had little more then suspicions," replied the old man, "and the courts would have convicted Morfin at the time anyways. Our system wasn't as unbiased as it is now."

Harry snorted but waved Dumbledore to continue, "I believe this ring to be a horcrux. And I believe it to be in Little Hangleton, in what remains of the Gaunt Family house. I wish for us to take a journey to investigate…into this."

"Are you barking? A holiday for a horcrux…in a muggle town?" asked Harry, "won't people notice?"

"Harry, if it is kept quiet, it shall be alright, seeing as how the holiday starts soon, most will not realize our disappearance. To destroy the horcruxes will bring us one step closer to killing the monster that is Voldemort," Dumbledore's electric blue eyes looked deep into Harry's green eyes, "It is a task that needs to be done, and there is no better time then now.

Ω∞†∞Ω

Three days later, a beige 1968 340 Saloon style Jaguar slowly parked next to the local inn of Little Hangleton. A messy black haired teen with deep and bright green eyes stepped out from the right hand side. He brushed the shoulders of his brown leather jacket as an old, skinny man wearing a button down shirt with an argyle sweater vest over it climbed out of the small car, he then reached back in and grabbed for his clothe jacket. The teen looked at the old man and smiled.

"Bit nippy out," he said.

"It is winter, young Harry," replied Dumbledore, "quite a bit of driving you did there."

"Twas my first time," replied the teen as he through the car keys to Dumbledore.

The old man caught them and pocketed them, "I couldn't tell after the first hundred miles, luckily there seems to be no police officers on the road right now."

"Home with their families," whispered Harry, "like everything is normal."

"Shall we check in and then get something to eat before turning in?" asked the Headmaster.

Harry nodded and they went into the inn getting too rooms from the inn keeper and asked where a good hot meal would be. After some cheerful talk, specially about the upcoming season, Harry and Dumbledore bade the inn keeper farewell and walked to The Hanged Man.

The swung the door open, walked in and took a booth against the far wall. Everything seemed to be worn wood and plastic like leather cushions, but a really good family like place. In fact, there seemed to be some local kids from the Secondary school hanging around for a late night dinner and two families eating at circular tables. Harry took off his coat and threw it in the corner of the booth, pushing up the long sleeves of his navy blue shirt to mid forearm; showing off the bottom straps of his leather holsters and the bracelet Shaklebolt gave him for his birthday.

He squeezed his fist tight, elongating his black scar that ran down his hand. He looked briefly at the menu and decided on the mince pie. He looked at Dumbledore, he seemed to be studying him. Harry sighed.

"Why did we have to drive here, instead of…"

"I thought it would be more fun this way," said Dumbledore, "and less conspicuous."

Harry nodded, Dumbledore continued, "do you understand what we have to do tomorrow?" Harry nodded again, "good, we'll have a bit of a lie in, get some food, and then head over, at around four in the afternoon."

Harry nodded as the waitress came over and took their orders. She gave them two glasses of water. Harry finished his pretty quickly, Dumbledore slowly sipped his. Harry was quite thirsty because he didn't drink anything the whole ride up. He sat impatiently for the waitress to come by and refill his glass. After ten minutes, Harry looked at the old man, who nodded, and he stood up an approached the bar.

The bartender paid him no mind, even after a few "ahems". Harry sighed and placed his head in his hands at the bar. He then heard someone move next to him. He looked up to see the cute face of a lithe girl with short curly blonde hair. Her cheeks were rosy, either from laughing with the other secondary school kids or from the cool air outside.

"Heya Lester," she greeted the bartender, "can I get a Choco with Whip?"

"Sure thing, doll," replied Lester, the bartender.

The girl looked over at Harry questioning, the teen slowly looked at her and asked, "all I had to do was ask him by his first name?"

"Lester's not to kindly to strangers, normally no one in town is. You just passing by?" she asked, "you have to be anyway, not many people wish to visit Little Hangleton. Heya Lester, can I also get…what is it you want?"

"Just a pitcher of water," said Harry, "thank you," he said to the girl.

"No problem," she said as she got her chocolate milkshake with whip cream on top, "names Diana."

"Harry," said the green eyed teen as he got his pitcher of water, he started to make his way back to the table with Dumbledore, "Nice meeting you."

He was stopped by something hitting him in the chest, causing him to drop the pitcher of water. He looked at a some of the secondary school guys, who seemed to notice one of their friends talking to a stranger. Harry squatted down to pick up the pitcher, as the head kid tapped it away with his foot. Dumbledore started to make his way to the group.

"Hitting on my girl, eh," accused the kid.

"Rodney, stop it," said Diana, "he wasn't hitting on me, he just need some help ordering a pitcher of water."

Rodney and his friends had a good laugh at that, "can't order by yourself?"

"I can actually," replied Harry, who looked at Dumbledore as he hovered near the group, "it just seems not many people in this town take kindly to passersby."

"Perhaps we don't want to be 'passed by'," said Rodney, "but I'm sure we can make you remember Little Hangleton."

"Rodney," scolded Diana as she sat up from the bar.

"I'm not looking to fight," said Harry as he held his flat in front of him, but prepared his stance, just incase; his eyes still on Dumbledore.

"Look at me, when you talk to me," said Rodney angrily, Harry turned to look deep into his eyes, "there won't be a fight, just two hits. Me hitting you and you hitting the floor."

"Arrogance is the ego boosting form of ignorance," repeated Harry from his many lessons with Sun Gao, "I implore you, I have no qualms with you. Let it just end here."

"No, it'll end here!" said Rodney as he threw a forward punch.

Harry side stepped it, turning his body to be parallel with Rodney as he fell forward with the force he put behind the strike. Harry grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back, so as to not allow him to fall forward into the bar. Rodney squirmed trying to get out of the hold, Harry knew that if he continued to squirm, he might break his own arm. He applied more pressure which stopped his squirming. One of Rodney's friends took a swing, Harry turned Rodney into a shield, and the boy's cheek was then hit by his own friend. Harry let go and pushed forward.

Rodney got up and charged at Harry, until on of his friends held him back. Dumbledore stepped next to Harry and whispered that they should go. Harry nodded in agreement. Both of them gathered their food and jackets and made their way to the door. Rodney and his friends making sure they left into the cold of night. They ate on their way to the hotel and slept the night and morning away in preparation for tomorrow. For they did not know what awaited them.

The next morning Harry and Dumbledore awoke, bathed, and got something to eat before they piled into the 340 Saloon. They drove on the main road between Little Hangleton and Greater Hangleton. Dumbledore pulled over halfway between the two and got out of the car, Harry followed shortly. Looking around, Harry could not tell where this place could be. Dumbledore seemed to be looking at the trees.

"Where is the entrance?" asked Harry.

"Between twin birches," replied Dumbledore.

"There must be thousands," replied Harry.

"No," said Dumbledore as he pointed to two birch trees that were parallel together, "there is but one pair. Follow me, wands out."

Harry flicked his wrist and brought forth his wand as he and Dumbledore wedged forward through the overgrown brush. As they mover forward, Harry felt a tugging at his Grapehorn boots. He looked at Dumbledore, who didn't seem worried as they moved forward. The tugging of the under growth began to strengthen, until it pulled Harry flat down onto his stomach, knocking the air out of him. He gasped as he was dragged slowly across the ground. He heard another thump, which meant Dumbledore had joined him. Harry looked at his legs and saw thick green vines rapping around them.

Searching back into his mind, he tried to remember all the plants from herbology, and then it hit him like bolt of lightening. _Devil's Snare_ exclaimed Harry in his head, _can only be countered with light and heat._ Harry whipped out his wand and conjured a stream of fire, engulfing the vines on his boots and pants in flame. The vines tensed for a second before letting go of him and retreating back into the forest. Harry stood up and patted out the flames on his jeans and pants, Dumbledore seemed to have already beaten the Devil's Snare and wanted to see if Harry would get past it.

"We must be careful," said the old man as they continued to journey to the inlet, "it seems Tom left us several traps. And I think they will get tougher as we go forth. Keep vigilant."

"Great," said Harry as he stepped forward into the inlet to see a mass that looked to be a house. Off to the right was a pile of wood behind a stump with an axe in it. Upon the axe was written the letters O.T.I.S. Harry and Dumbledore stepped forward setting off ward. The stump that held the grew out of the ground, the roots wrapping around the nearby logs. Building it's self slowly, a humanoid figure of wood was soon in front of the two.

The stump made the Golem's chest, the axe still wedged in it. The rooted hands reached over and clamped around the axe head and yanked it from it's chest. Holding it in two hands, the golem approached Harry and Dumbledore with two long and heavy steps. It drew the axe up and started to swing it down. Harry pushed Dumbledore to the side as he fell the other way to get out of the reach of the axe. The golem stopped mid swing and rotated to the side hitting Harry in the side with the flat end of the double ended axe.

Harry was tossed to the side, landed to the ground and rolled onto his back. He tried to take a breath and felt a sharp pain in his side, _clear sign of a broken rib_ he thought to himself. He looked over at Dumbledore, who had a successful time setting the golem on fire. Unfortunately, the fire did not break down the wood golem faster enough, so now Harry and Dumbledore were fighting against flaming wood golem.

The golem then turned back to Harry, swinging it's axe at his knees; the teen jumped over the axe, panting for breath as he shot a fire spell at the golem, hoping to speed up the process. He ran next to Dumbledore, still panting for breath as they both dodged and cast spells.

"How do you defeat this thing!" yelled out Harry as he ducked a flaming axe swing.

"The golem is made so that only the master can control it," said Dumbledore as he rolled to the side, "and there is a code word that it will listen too. I've tried Slytherine, Gaunt, Riddle, Pureblood," Dumbledore dodged another attack, "Voldemort, Morfin, Marvolo, Merope, and Ogden. I'm just about out of words that Voldemort would use."

Harry thought for a second, dodging the axe as it was driven into the ground. Harry sent a Reductor Curse at the golem's root fingers, shattering them into little embers. It lifted it's self up and swung at Harry with it's fists Harry sent a water charm at it, putting the fires on it's arms and blunt stumps out, as well as the axe under it. Harry looked at the axe, the letters O.T.I.S. still etched into it. Realization hit Harry, as well as the golem's stump in his chest.

Again, Harry was thrown back as the half flaming wood golem planed to step on his chest, he yelled out, "OTIS!"

The golem stopped in it tracks and retracted to a standing position. Harry looked at Dumbledore, who seemed to be in shock. He stood up gingerly and held his side where his rib was broken. Taking short breaths Harry walked over to Dumbledore as they looked at the still half burning, charred golem. Dumbledore leaned over and looked at Harry's side, waving his wand, the pain from Harry's side disappeared.

"How did you know the word," asked Dumbledore.

"It was on the axe, I remembered it from the memory," replied Harry.

Dumbledore nodded, "good, your rib is fixed up. Shall we continue?"

Harry nodded, "what should I do with him?"

"Say the code word and tell him to return from whence he came," said Dumbledore.

Harry told the golem to return and watched as the wood replied its self and the stump implanted it's self back into the ground. Harry followed Dumbledore who stopped in front of the house. The sun was mostly down, but Harry noticed something different about the house. It seemed to be shimmering and pulsating. Harry looked at Dumbledore and asked what it is.

"The house is covered in snakes," replied Dumbledore, "they seem to be a protective shell, guarding it."

"Shall I try talking to them," asked Harry.

"It wouldn't hurt," said Dumbledore, Harry looked over at the stump and wanted to disagree with his Headmaster.

He approached the house closer, the hissing soon arouse from the house, it seemed incoherent and un organized. Harry gulped back his breath and concentrated strongly on a moving snake, looking at the ones in front of him.

"We wish to pass," he said at last to the many snakes enveloping the Gaunt family house.

The snakes broke into a cacophony, most saying "he speaks" in exclaimed hisses. Then it seemed their was a silence and a prominent snake appeared at the door , it's attention directed towards Harry.

"You and our companion may passsss upon the anssswer of three quesssstionssss," it hissed lazily, "one wrong anssswer will mean your deathssssss."

Harry translated to Dumbledore, who nodded, "Okay, we understand," said Harry in parseltongue.

"What issss the antithesisssss of opaquenesssss," asked the snake.

Harry thought for a second and conveyed the question to Dumbledore. They both thought for awhile before Dumbledore came up with an answer, Harry looked at the lead snake and hissed, "Purity."

The house shimmered again in a cacophony as the lead snake said, "correct. Next quessstion. What are ssssnakessss ssssseldom in, but lionsssss alwayssss laze about in?"

Harry relayed the question to Dumbledore who easily knew the answer and Harry translated as, "Pride."

The snakes around the house moved around again as the lead snake said, "correct. Lasssst quessstion. What isssss the essssssssence of man?"

Harry thought hard, with out conveying the message to Dumbledore. He remembered his first contact with Voldemort and how said all man sought power…_power_ concluded Harry, was the essence of man to Voldemort. The teen looked at that snake and hissed, "Power."

The house shimmered again and the lead snake hissed back, "correct," as the doorway to the Gaunt Family home appeared among the slithering scales of the serpents. Harry approached the door and opened the handle. Dumbledore followed after him as they walked into the home. Years of dust had collected and caked on the floors, and inside was…nothing.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, "Where is it, sir?"

"I believe there is one more task," said Dumbledore as he looked around and noticed something, "do tell me, Harry, is there anything out of place?"

Harry looked around the room and saw there seemed to be nothing out of place really. Dust caked over the bucket in the corner of the kitchen, the table still had the bottle of liquor on it that Morfin was drinking from before his arrest and the coat of arms was on the back wall…_the coat of arms had the kite shield hanging upside down!_ Harry stepped forward and turned the kite shield of the Gaunt Family right side up. As he moved it, the lop of the infinite snake sunk deep into the wall. Harry looked at it and then at Dumbledore.

"I do believe I shall take this turn, seeing as you figured out the snakes and golem," said the old man as he stepped forward.

"Are you certain, sir?"

"Quite so," replied Dumbledore as he rolled up the sleeve of his button down muggle shirt and plunged his arm into the hole, "my, it seems there is some kind of liquid that fills the hole…I can feel the ring…is it getting warm in here Harry?"

Harry patted himself down, "no sir, is something wrong?"

Dumbledore winced, "when I take my hand out I want you to spray water on it. You know the spell, right?"

Harry nodded, Dumbledore winced again as he thrust his arm deeper into the top hole. Tears started to well at the corners of his eyes and Harry began to get increasingly worried. The frail old man braced his free hand against the wall, Harry ran up to him holding his side.

"What is it sir," asked the teen, "what can I do?"

"I can almost feel it," said Dumbledore, he began to breath heavy and cry freely, "Harry, please, be ready with..." he gulped loudly, "that spell…please."

Harry stepped back and had his wand at the ready, Dumbledore continued to pant, letting out small moans of pain and a strong pained look on his face.

"Almost…there!" yelled the old man as he swiftly pulled his arm out of the hole.

Harry screamed when he saw Dumbledore's arm. It was completely black and cracking as if it were withering away from just above the elbow down towards his fingertips. The nails seemed to have been ripped from the finger tips, the knuckles were swollen in a grossly yellow colour. And upon his ring finger sat the Gaunt Family ring, the gold band and shining opal in sharp contrast to Dumbledore's hand.

"The water, Harry!" yelled Dumbledore, "Please!"

Snapped back to the present, Harry shot a jet of pure water onto his Headmaster's withered and mangled arm. A sizzle arouse from the drenched flesh, a dark smoke rising in the air. The water was accelerating the acid.

"What do I do, sir, what do I do?" asked Harry frantically.

Dumbledore was crying and clenching his teeth, but managed to say, "the acid…needs an…alkaline….balance."

_Alkaline…where the hell can I get alkaline!_ Screamed Harry in his head, _damn it Snape! You taught me nothing but dirt! Wait a second, DIRT! The humus here has to be alkaline the decomposition._ Harry grabbed Dumbledore around the waste and ran out of the house with him and the ring till they were outside. Harry then shot water into an open dirt patch in front of the house making a thick oily mud. He took glob after glob of the mud and applied it to Dumbledore's arm as the old man clenched his teeth in pain.

After there were at least three coatings of the alkaline based mud on Dumbledore's arm, Harry conjured some bandages and lightly wrapped the arm. He lifted Dumbledore up slowly to his feet as they made their way back to the car. Harry sighed in relief as he gently placed Dumbledore in the passenger seat.

The old man looked up groggily from the pain into Harry's eyes, "thank you," he whispered, Harry nodded and closed the door getting into the drivers seat. He turned the car around in a three point turn and started to drive to London. Harry knew Dumbledore needed rest, and most certainly didn't want to the rest of the wizarding world to know by morning. Harry looked to his side to see the old man fast asleep cradling his bandaged and broken arm. _I'm sorry_, thought Harry as he drove at the average speed merging on the main road way, _I'm sorry, comrade_.

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A/N:** Heya, I'm sorry it took my a long time to get this chapter out. But I hope you all enjoyed it. My first year of college was amazing, I got to experience many new and different things. One specific item is that I have taken up Karate, passed my first test in it, though I thought I wouldn't because I kicked my Shihan in the balls he kicked my in the eye as payback though. Anyway, expect some really good and long chapters this summer. I apologize again for the wait.

Rodney's line of "Two hits, me hitting you; you hitting the floor," was taken from the movie, _The Breakfast Club_.

The first of the Horcruxes, though it shall be some time till the next one, and they still need to find out how to destroy them.

A picture of the wood golem can be found on my MSN web page.

I would like to thank **Tmctflyboy, Phoenixdor Dragonclaw, Draghknar, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows and Siurius009** for reading and reviewing. I would also like to give a special thanks to **HarryReader** for showing a lot of concern with this fic and how I was proceeding with the writing. Thank you all for reading and reviewing.

Forfie


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